


The Last Falcon

by midori_509



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Apologizes, Getting Together, Jaskier | Dandelion & Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg Friendship, Jaskier | Dandelion Has a Family, Jaskier | Dandelion Has a Past, Jaskier | Dandelion is Immortal, Jaskier | Dandelion is a Mess, M/M, Mostly Canon Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Episode: S01E06 Rare Species, Slow Burn, Witcher!Jaskier, a bit angst i guess, maybe? - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:41:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 23,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22938844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midori_509/pseuds/midori_509
Summary: He grabs his weapon with both hands, swings it over his head and drives the sword into the beasts eye right into its brain, surprised by how easy his sword glides through the bones of the skull. The beast twitches and screeches one last time before it falls still.With thrumming heart he stares at the corpse while taking a few steps back. His body is shaking.“What the fuck?!”Jaskiers head snaps up when a deep and furious sounding voice appears close to him. Cornflower blue eyes meet golden ones. Geralt is stepping next to him, drenched in mud from the shallow river.“What the fuck?” he repeats looking daggers at Jaskier.After Geralt chased Jaskier away on that damn mountain the bard decides that it is time to return to his family and finally fulfill his responsibility as a viscount.But when he reaches his parents house and learns that both of his parents died while he was away his life takes an unexpected turn.A letter makes him realize that Jaskier doesn’t know everything about his past.Trying to find some answers for all of his questions he leaves again, starting his very own adventure full of surprises and unexpected help by someone he’s tried to forget: Geralt of Rivia.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 57
Kudos: 348





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This idea had been spooking around in my head for quite a while now and I finally decided to start writing it down. It might be a bit clumsily written at the beginning because I didn't write anything the past few years. Also please note that English isn't my first language so there will be some grammatical mistakes for sure, sorry for that. 
> 
> Anyway, thanks for being interested!

The morning sun barely reached over the horizon let alone the top of the trees from the surrounding forest. Gurgling sounds of a slowly flowing stream is the only noise. There were no birds singing, all of them were scared away when the beast appeared from its cave, chasing the man who tried to kill it while it slept. The eardrum ripping screech from the beast cut through the warm air of the quiet dawn.  
The man is panting heavily, a cold and blood stained sword in his shaking hands, several small cuts burning on his sweating skin as he prepares for the beasts next attack.  
The flap of the beasts feathered wings swirls up the dirt on the clearing in front of the cave before it charges towards him, using its wings as front legs. Just as the beasts gets close it jumps up, thrusting it’s hind legs forwards. The man stumbles a few steps back, trying to avoid the sharp talons grabbing for him but he is to slow. He raises his arm in the last second to at least protect his face from the imminent impact. He feels the claws cutting through his thin leather armor, skin and flesh with ease. The force of the attack throws him onto his back, saving him from the second pair of claws snatching into his direction. For a few moments he holds his breath, eyes wide in fear.  
“Fuck,” he curses and scrambles up onto his feet while holding tight to his sword.  
“I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die...” repeats in his mind panicky as he tries to figure out from where the beast will attack next. A barely visible shadow cast by the slowly rising sun reveals that the beast is circling over his head. He looks up.  
Poisonous looking green scales reflect the weak rays of the morning sun. The feathered wings spread to their full width. An ugly rooster like face with its sharp beak glaring down, furios eyes fixed on his every move.  
Without warning the beast dives down and he thinks his heart is going to stop as he freezes in place, not able to look away from the monstrosity coming closer way too fast.  
Thrumming hooves and a fearful neigh draws his attention to something closing in behind him but before he can even turn his head something grabs him at the back of his armor and yanks him up into the air and throws him onto the back of a speeding horse not even a blink later. Out of reflex he holds onto the person in front of him, somehow still clenching his hand around the hilt of his sword. In the corner of his eye he sees the beast pull out of its dive with an angry screech as it missed its target by only seconds. The horse slides over the dusty and dry ground when it abruptly stops. The person in front of him jumps off already before it comes to a full stop, knocking him to the ground too. Luckily he catches the fall before his face hits the ground. He hears the metallic sound of a sword being drawn and he raises his head. He feels as if someone just kicked into his guts when he sees a white haired man running towards the beast that just touched down onto his scaly legs and spreading its wings threatening  
.  
“Oh fuck... this can’t be...” Jaskier mutters and watches the Witcher swing his sword at the beast before he turns to the nervously prancing horse. Its eyes wide in fear and ears turned into the direction of the battle but it doesn’t run away.  
Jaskier gets up, his sword now laying next to him as the fall finally made him drop it and he reaches to pet the horses nose.  
“I bet he called you Roach too...” he mutters.  
One of the ear flicks towards him and he is a bit amused when he adds “Of course he did...”  
A loud curse lets him spin around. He sees a sword flying through the air and shortly after he witnesses the owner landing in the tiny river next to the clearing with a splash. Immediately the beast turns its attention back to Jaskier. With a loud screech it dashes towards him. Roach neighs in panic and bolts into the woods. Jaskier knows he can’t pick up his sword in time. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, concentrating.  
“Okay, you got this.”  
Quickly he raises his arms and forms a sign with each hand. He feels magic flowing through his veins and when he opens his eyes he sees the creature crashing into a wall of air. He hears a bang when the fragile wall bursts followed by a pained cry and the creature is dropping to the ground only a few meters in front of him. Jaskier hastily bends down, grabs his sword and uses the beasts confusion to cover the distance before it is able to get up to its feet again. He grabs his weapon with both hands, swings it over his head and drives the sword into the beasts eye right into its brain, surprised by how easy his sword glides through the bones of the skull. The beast twitches and screeches one last time before it falls still.  
With thrumming heart he stares at the corpse while taking a few steps back. His body is shaking.  
“What the fuck?!”  
Jaskiers head snaps up when a deep and furious sounding voice appears close to him. Cornflower blue eyes meet golden ones. Geralt is stepping next to him, drenched in mud from the shallow river.  
“What the fuck?” he repeats looking daggers at Jaskier.  
Jaskier snaps.  
“It’s been seven fucking years and the first thing you say is ‘what the fuck’?!”, he yells shooting angry glares at the Witcher. “No ‘Hello Jaskier’ nothing?!”  
He grabs the hilt of his sword that is still stuck in the beasts head. But when he tries to yank it out blinding pain shoots up his arm.  
“FUCK!”  
He presses his arm to his body, tears dwelling in his eyes. Pumped with adrenaline he forgot about the deep cut in his arm. Now with the adrenaline dropping the wound is starting to pulse painfully and he realizes his arm is wet from all the blood.  
“Let me see”, Geralt grumbles, reaching for Jaskiers arm.  
His voice is shaking from rage when he shouts “Don’t you dare to touch me!”  
He jumps back but stumbles over a loose rock. Without thinking he tries to catch his fall with his hurt arm. The pain explodes in his brain and this time it’s so intense that he slumps to the ground unconscious.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At first thank you for all the kudos and bookmarks! 
> 
> Also, I can't promise to always update that quickly but I'll give my best!

The Last Falcon - Chapter 2

It’s dark when Jaskier wakes up. His eyelids are heavy but after blinking a few times it gets better. He hears the cracking noises of a small fire, the rustling of the leaves in the wind and sometimes the quiet snorting of a horse. The pain in his arm is barely there anymore and he realizes that his armor and shirt have been removed and his arm is covered with bandages. He can feel the rough fabric of an old bedroll on his naked back, the cool metal of his necklace and the pendant laying heavy on his chest. Above him, the stars are twinkling through the crowns of the trees.  
He sights.  
“I told you not to touch me,” he says weakly, his voice hoarse. He sits up. Geralt settled down with crossed legs at the opposite side of the fire, his eyes closed, hands laying relaxed on his lap.  
“Hm.”  
“Well, still as talkative as ever before.”  
He sights again.  
“Anyway ... thanks for saving me. Although I think you did that without knowing it was me. Maybe you would have let that beast rip me into tiny pieces if you had known.”  
Jaskier huffs and frowns at the Witcher.  
“I wouldn’t,” Geralt simply says before he opens his eyes and focusing his gaze on Jaskier.  
“Does it still hurt?” the white-haired man asks nodding at Jaskiers arm.  
“Why would you even care about my damn arm?”  
Jaskier feels his anger coming back when he locks eyes with the Witcher.  
“Does it?” Geralt asks again, ignoring Jaskiers remark.  
Another huff.  
“No. Not really,” he finally replies with slouching shoulders, now avoiding to look at the other man, his anger already fading again. Unable to stay mad with the Witcher he fights the sadness and heartache resurfacing in the back of his mind.  
“Basilisks are poisonous. You were lucky.”  
Geralt is still looking at him.  
“Yeah maybe.”  
Jaskier concentrates on the dancing flames of the fire in front of him. He hasn’t seen Geralt for many years after they parted ways on the mountain. Geralts words are still lingering in the back of his mind. His heart drops whenever he thinks about that day, thinking about Geralt yelling at him, telling him to disappear from his life.  
The hardest thing for Jaskier was to accept that he wouldn’t be a part of the Witcher’s life anymore, to accept that he seemingly never was a part of it at all. Yet he still missed the Witcher every passing day again. Lost in thoughts they both fall quiet.  
“I’ve found your horse. It’s with Roach” Geralt says quietly, breaking the silence again.  
“His name is Pegasus”  
Jaskier regrets his response in the same second. He looks up, his gaze wandering to the trees a few meters away where he spots his white gelding grazing next to Geralts brown mare.  
“Hm.”  
Again the silence is only disturbed by the pops of the wood breaking in the flames. Jaskier shifts uncomfortably on the bedroll. He realizes that it is Geralts and he feels even more awkward.  
“How long have I been sleeping?”, he then asks when the deafening silence gets too much for him.  
“Few hours.”  
Jaskier sighs and risks a look into Geralts direction. The golden eyes are still glaring at him.  
“Jaskier I ... I think I owe you an apology”, he says suddenly. Jaskiers eyes widen in surprise.  
“You...”, he starts but Geralt interrupts him with the raise of his hand.  
“I... I shouldn’t have said those things to you. Nothing of all that horse shit was your fault. I’m sorry Jaskier. I really am.”  
Knowing that Geralt isn’t a man of many words this is already more than he’d have ever expected. He feels his emotions overwhelming him, the ones he pushed into the furthest corner of his mind now tears burning in his eyes. But he won’t let them spill. He cried once when he waited for a week at the inn they started the dragon hunt in and left when he was sure that Geralt wouldn’t come to pick him up. But his tears weren’t for Geralt only. They were filled with disappointment and anger at himself that he spent over two decades of his life traveling with someone that refused to see him as a friend. The bitter taste of sadness in his mouth tells him he still loves that person. The person that now sat in front of him, apologizing.  
“It’s been seven years Geralt.”  
Jaskiers voice is low and he feels a lump in his throat. He swallows hard.  
“I know. I’m sorry.”  
Now it’s Geralt that avoids looking at the other man.  
“I ... I realized that I was so damn stupid after ... two weeks maybe. When I calmed down. I tried to find you, really. I went back to Caingorn. But you weren’t there anymore. I asked in every inn I passed. But either I was too late or you didn’t pass through. And then ... after a few months, I think ... nobody could remember seeing you play anywhere.”  
Jaskier decides not to reply. He just watches Geralt who is uncomfortably kneading his fingers. He looks so vulnerable at that moment and Jaskier fights the urge to get up and hug the Witcher.  
His heart is beating painfully fast. He bites his lip already knowing what the Witcher is going to say. Guilt is creeping up in his mind, covering his body with goosebumps.  
Then Geralt continues speaking, his voice is only a whisper now.  
“I thought you died Jaskier.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for the new kudos and bookmarks <3 
> 
> This chapter might be a bit weird. I tried to match it to Jaskiers mood and it's kind of a song fic somehow. Hope you'll like it anyway!

Jaskier can’t bear looking at Geralt any longer. Never before he saw a look on the Witcher’s face as pained as he just saw. The guilt got too much.  
“I thought I’d never see you again Jaskier.”  
Geralts voice is low and Jaskier is sure it had a sad undertone. Nervously Jaskier starts pulling on a loose thread on his bandage, coiling it around one of his fingers. He still doesn’t reply, unsure of what to say.  
A rustle of clothes, a few steps and then Geralt slumps down next to him on the bedroll, legs pulled close to the chest, his muscular arms resting on his knees.  
Jaskier risks a short glimpse towards the Witcher who stares into the fire in front of him. He sighs deeply and follows Geralts example, glaring into the dancing flames too.  
“I... I accept your apology Geralt. I mean ... it’s not your fault that you couldn’t find me. But ... please don’t expect everything going back to normal now. Because my life has been ... everything but normal since ... since the mountain.”  
In the corner of his eye he sees the Witcher nodding.  
“What happened?”  
Jaskier sights and runs his fingers through his short brown hair.  
“You don’t have to tell me. But ... I will listen.”  
A tired smile appears on Jaskiers lips before he replies.

-

_‘I imagine you're probably...’_   
_‘Damn it, Jaskier! Why is it whenever I find myself in a pile of shit these days, it's you, shoveling it?’_   
_‘Well, that's not fair.’_   
_‘The Child Surprise, the djinn, all of it! If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands!’_   
_‘Right. Uh... Right, then. I'll... I'll go get the rest of the story from the others. See you around, Geralt.’_

It’s been five days since Geralt yelled at him on top of the mountain and just a few hours earlier he made it back to the inn. He had hoped that Geralt would catch up on him but that didn’t happen. After a day he had run into the dwarves again and surprisingly they agreed to walk with him. Maybe it was the broken look in his eyes. Or maybe it was because the dragon hunt was over and they were more relaxed now. He didn’t know their reasons but he was glad that he didn’t have to climb down the mountain by himself. They parted ways at the gates of Caingorn, the dwarves waving Jaskier goodbye before running off to collect their bounty.

Jaskier is lying on his back, glaring onto the ceiling above him. He sighs and decides to stay a few days at the local inn to wait for Geralt. Sleep is slowly overtaking him and he closes his eyes.

On the first day he stays at his rented room, exhausted from the travel. He calls for a hot bath. The burning sensation the water leaves on his skin is relaxing his hurting and sore muscles.  
A bit more refreshed than before he pulls out a few pages of parchment from his pack and sits down on the small table. His mind is blank when he tries to write a song about the dragon hunt. He has no idea what has happened in that cave and neither did the dwarves. They had told him that they were too late as well and the only ones who took part in be battle were Borch, Yennefer and Geralt. He frowns.

On the second day he is downstairs in the tavern part of the inn for most of the day. He plays some songs to collect at least a few coins just to spend them again on ale and food. He talks to the patrons, asking them if they heard something about a Witcher in town but nobody saw him after they left for the mountains before the hunt.

Jaskier starts feeling restless on the third day. Maybe something happened to Geralt? Maybe he needed longer than usually to calm down? Parting with Yennefer hit him hard, understandably. He knew that that sorceress meant a lot to Geralt, he didn’t understand why, but Jaskier didn’t make it a secret that he doesn’t like her. He liked her even less by now after she hurt Geralt. Yes, he was thankful that she saved his life a few years ago but that didn’t make her less of a bitch in his eyes.   
Okay, maybe he was a bit jealous that she got a lot closer to Geralt in a short time than he did in two decades.  
“Ah, don’t tell me I’ve got feelings for that big brute,” Jaskier mumbles and covers his face with his hands.  
That evening he gets drunk.

_The fairer sex, they often call it_   
_But her love’s as unfair as a crook_   
_It steals all my reason_   
_Commits every treason_   
_Of logic, with naught but a look_   
_A storm breaking on the horizon_   
_Of longing and heartache and lust_   
_She’s always bad news_   
_It’s always lose, lose_   
_So tell me love, tell me love_   
_How is that just?_

On the morning of the fourth day Jaskier regrets drinking too much and stays in his bed until the sun reaches its highest point on the sky. He forces himself to get up to eat something in the tavern. Ignoring the pounding headache he walks around town, asking if meanwhile someone spotted the Witcher somewhere but he gets the same response from everyone. Nobody saw the Witcher. Slowly the thought of that Geralts words weren’t just a product of heartache and anger but the words of his true feelings towards Jaskier, starts creeping up in his mind. He decides to drown his feelings in ale again.

_But the story is this_   
_She’ll destroy with her sweet kiss_   
_Her sweet kiss_   
_But the story is this_   
_She’ll destroy with her sweet kiss_

The fifth day doesn’t get better. Jaskier sings a few songs again but he can’t concentrate on his texts and notes so he stops playing and disappears into his room. He remembers the song he started writing about Geralt and Yennefer while he was waiting for Geralt to return from the monster hunt the day before the dragon hunt. Kneeling next to his pack he searches for the parchments he used for the song. He grabs ink and a quill and starts scribbling.

_Her current is pulling you closer_   
_And charging the hot, humid night_   
_The red sky at dawn is giving a warning, you fool_   
_Better stay out of sight_   
_I’m weak my love, and I am wanting_   
_If this is the path I must trudge_   
_I welcome my sentence_   
_Give to you my penance_   
_Garrotter, jury and judge_

When the bard wakes up on the sixth day he has an empty feeling in his chest.  
Geralt won’t come to pick him up.  
With heavy legs he gets up, collecting his stuff and crams it into his pack. The lute tied to his back he walks down to the tavern and orders breakfast.  
After finishing his plate he leaves. Jaskier won’t stay another day. He feels his heart bursting into pieces when he steps through the gates of Caingorn.  
Geralt won’t come to pick him up.  
Disappointment and anger spread through his mind. Why did he keep trying to befriend the Witcher? He should have walked away. Maybe after the incident with the djinn already. Tears start welling from his eyes. He was so pathetic.

_But the story is this_   
_She’ll destroy with her sweet kiss_   
_Her sweet kiss_   
_But the story is this_   
_She’ll destroy with her sweet kiss_   
_But the story is this_   
_She’ll destroy with her sweet kiss_   
_Her sweet kiss_   
_But the story is this_   
_She’ll destroy with her sweet kiss_   
_The story is this_   
_She’ll destroy with her sweet kiss_


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just saw I also got comments, thank you! (I have no idea how I missed that ... sorry lol)   
> I'll try to reply asap!

It takes Jaskier the whole day until the next town appears on the horizon. His feet hurt with every step but he doesn’t stop.  
The sun is slowly setting behind the town, blinding him. He is almost glad when it eventually sinks low enough to color the sky in a soft pink shade, the last flares illuminating the skyline of the town.  
Immediately the bard becomes aware of how much warmth the sinking sun still had provided, the air is now noticeable colder and he starts shivering. He remembers how Geralt always mocked him when he complained about the cold, but giving him his cloak anyway.  
The bard frowns and walks faster, hurrying to reach the town before it gets too cold. 

Jaskier is freezing when he finally stumbles into the local tavern of Hengfors. His stomach is rumbling so loud that the bar maiden gives him an amused look when he approaches the bar.  
“Hungry, huh?” She smiles at him and Jaskier nods eagerly.  
“I was on a long travel today but... uh... I didn’t have enough rations with me. I’m not used to travel so far while I’m... alone.”  
He was so used to Geralt taking care of their provisions that he simply forgot to pack more than just a few snacks.  
The bar maidens smile gets even brighter and it somehow makes Jaskier feel a bit better.  
She points at at his lute.  
“I’ll give you your meal for free if you manage to cheer the patrons up with your songs, bard! Everyone is so gloomy today it even makes me a bit depressed.”  
She shakes her head, light brown locks dancing while she does so, pulling a face and rolling her hazel eyes.  
“Oh... oh, yes, I can try! I definitely won’t say no to a free meal!” Jaskier laughs and returns her smile.  
“So it’s a deal! Please sit down while I tell the cook to prepare your meal! You can eat before your performance, of course. I don’t want you to collapse from hunger in front of our patrons. Bad for the reputation. But when you fail your part you’ll have to pay later!”  
She winks at him and disappears into the kitchen and Jaskier sits down at a table not far from the bar. 

The evening goes well, the patrons are cheering for him and he gets quite a lot coins on top of his free meal. Jaskier is a bit proud that he managed to push his bad mood aside for at least a while. But when he steps down from the stage the empty feeling in his chest quickly takes over again. He settles down at the bar to have a drink, wanting to distract himself. The bar maiden sits down next to him and starts flirting with him but to his own surprise he turns her down. Jaskier tells her that he is tired from the long walk and needs to rest. She seems to be disappointed but she doesn’t loose her smile and nods understandably.  
“The inn is on the opposite side of the street,” she says before disappearing. 

The next day Jaskier gets up with the sunrise and grabs a small breakfast at the tavern. He then quickly leaves for the stables he saw in front of the town the day before. The night before he had decided to go back to Oxenfurt for a while and he doesn’t want to walk a distance that long by foot. He plans on buying a horse.  
A stable boy is tending to the horses when Jaskier enters the stables.  
“Well, hello, good morning!” he greets him.  
“Good Morning Sir, can I help you?” the boy replies politely and puts the bucket he was feeding the horses with down.  
“I’m thinking about buying a horse,” the bard explains and the boy nods.  
“I’ll go and get Graham, he owns all of these horses!”  
Jaskier thanks him and it doesn’t take long until a middle aged man appears from the side door.  
“Mornin’. I’m Graham. The boy said you want to buy a horse?”  
The man approaches Jaskier and stops in front of him.  
“Yes, uhm... if you have something... cheap. I... uh... don’t exactly have much I could spend at the moment.”  
A bit embarrassed Jaskier scratches the back of his head. The man doesn’t seem to mind.  
“Hmm. Do have a gelding I could sell you for... say 30 gold? Wanted to bring him to the butcher ‘cause he’s lazy and damn stubborn. No use for me.”  
Graham points to a white horse that’s dozing in front of the manger.  
As soon as Jaskier hears the word ‘butcher’ he has already decided that he’ll take the horse. He names it Pegasus. 

About three days later he reaches the next town. He could have been faster but the gelding really was stubborn and it took him a while to convince the horse to keep walking. Eventually the old trick with a carrot tied to a stick worked miracles.  
A queasy feeling lays heavy in his stomach when he gets closer to the gates of the town and realizes that the town he is about to enter is Blaviken. When he traveled with Geralt they always avoided this region. The image of Geralts face appears in his mind. The clenched jaw and a pained and guilt ridden look in the golden eyes whenever they got too close.  
Jaskier swallows hard. This will be the first time he will see the town in which Geralt got his infamous nickname. He sighs and hurries towards the inn. He doesn’t sleep well that night. 

Jaskiers way leads him through Roggeven and Novigrad before he finally reaches Oxenfurt on the fifth day. He immediately heads for the Academy, pulling Pegasus with him. He had to walk for about half of the day, leading the horse on its reins after the gelding refused to keep walking as soon as he sat up.  
A smile sneaked onto his face when he crossed the bridge to the Academy.  
His arrival isn’t unnoticed for long. A woman with long blonde hair hurries towards him with a bright grin.  
“Julian! What a wonderful coincidence to see you here!”  
“Priscilla! How nice to see you again!”  
They share a long hug before they’re interrupted by Pegasus who seemingly spotted a patch of fresh grass. Jaskier is still holding his reins and the gelding pulls him away from the woman to get to said patch.  
“Ah! Pegasus stop!” Jaskier calls out and stumbles after him, nearly falling over his own feet while trying to hold the horse back.  
Priscilla laughs at him.  
“Your horse is as stubborn as you are. Come, I’ll help you tend your horse at the stables and then we can talk? I think you really need to, you look horrible, Julian.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually planned to solve the mystery around Jaskiers past in chapter two already when he starts telling Geralt what has happened but the story somehow developed a life on its own which is why I’m not quite happy with this chapter. Got the feeling it takes Jaskier way too long to get to the point of his story. I guess I’ll start the next chapter with a skip to the time he leaves Oxenfurt again so his real journey can finally start.
> 
> Also I’m trying hard to make the chapters longer but that didn’t work too well again, whoops.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hah, at least the chapter is A BIT longer than the ones before ... I'm still not satisfied with the lenght :(  
> But I'm getting there, slowly, I guess.  
> Anyway, once again thank you for the new bookmarks and kudos, it really makes me happy that you guys are liking my work so far <3

The chancellor of the Oxenfurt Academy welcomed Jaskier with open arms, immediately offering him a position as a professor as his guest lectures during his travels with Geralt were always appreciated and Jaskier accepted happily.  
And although Jaskier enjoys teaching the students he starts thinking this isn’t the right thing to do after the first few weeks already. He feels anxious and he just can’t settle down but he blames it to the fact that he isn’t used to stay longer than a few days at the same place. Of course, he had stayed somewhere when he wasn’t with Geralt but he always felt restless after not too many days.  
The bard thought it would get better but he isn’t surprised when the exact opposite happens. It gets so bad his students start noticing that he can’t focus on the lectures anymore.  
He talks a lot to Priscilla, they grow close but Jaskier just can’t force himself to stay any day longer.  
And then, within a week he’s back on the road again.

Jaskier had crossed the Pontar after leaving Oxenfurt and after a day's ride, he reaches Gors Velen, another town on the northern coast. It was surrounded by walls and the towers of the town were glowing in the setting sun. He can smell the salty sea that spreads until behind the horizon.

_‘We could head to the coast.  
Get away for a while.’_

He frowns when his own words come back to his mind.

_‘Do what pleases you... while you can.’_   


“Oh, shut up,” he hisses.  
Pegasus’ ears turn toward him.  
“No, no, no, I wasn’t talking to you, dear!”  
Jaskier quickly pets the gelding's neck. The horse snorts softly and nods his head as if he’d understand what the bard just said. It makes him chuckle.  
Shortly after they arrive at the town's gates. Jaskier dismounts Pegasus and leads him into the busy streets.  
The inn is located close to the market place, next to a tavern with the name ‘Saffron and Pepper’. Hunger is gnawing at Jaskiers stomach but before he gets to eat himself he brings Pegasus to the stable next to the inn. He unsaddles him makes sure that he gets enough hay and some oats. He shoulders his bags and lute and marches into the inn to get a room for the night.  
Later, after stilling his hunger and drinking a mug of ale, he asks in the tavern next door if he can play a few songs to earn some coins. The barkeeper happily agrees and it doesn’t take long for a crowd to gather around Jaskier.

On the next day, he is heading towards Cidaris. The innkeeper said it shouldn’t take him longer than two days and this time he took care of his provisions beforehand. He maybe is a bit proud of himself.  
The road is not exactly alongside the coastline but Jaskier can still see the sea, smell the salty air the wind brings ashore. The smell brings back memories of his childhood when he used to play in the sands on the shore of the river Adalatte, which empties into the sea not that far away from Kerack, the town he grew up in.  
“Do you have any idea where I could go, dear Pegasus?” Jaskier asks but, of course, he doesn’t get a reply other than two curious ears pointing into his direction.  
“Maybe I should go home. Back to Kerack. I mean it’s not far from Cidaris and I haven’t been there in years. I could see my sister again. And maybe even my parents, perhaps they are still alive. You know, they were old already when I left after my eighteenths name day. But they always told me to go and chase my dreams. I feel a bit bad that I didn’t try to see them while I traveled with... well, while I was away. They were kind-hearted people, you know.”  
He exhales sharply, feeling guilty. The gelding is listening to every word, his ears still pointed at Jaskier. He snorts.  
“Yeah, maybe I’ll go back to Kerack.”

As Pegasus really did his best this time they arrive in Cidaris not even a full two days later. Jaskier is sure he still could reach Kerack before dusk but he decides it would be more reasonable to continue the next day. One of the main reasons for his decision was the Seaside Bazaar.  
He went there a few with his mother, sister and their maid. The bard smiles when he remembers the short travels with the carriage and all the silly things he found on the stands at the bazaar. The lute, which woke his love for music was also from there. He giggles to himself. That thing was horrible. Not a single straight note could be played with that crappy instrument.  
Jaskier finds a stable, pays the stable boy a few coins and quickly walks over to the big open place that holds the bazaar.  
Colorful tents and tarpaulins are to be seen everywhere. People squeeze through the narrow aisles, stopping to look at the offered goods.

Nightfall was approaching already when Jaskier hurries back to the stable where he left his belongings with Pegasus, his arms clutched around the notebooks, quills and lute strings he bought at the bazaar.  
He lets everything fall next to the saddlebag that rested next to the pole Pegasus is tied to and greets the gelding with a pat onto his nose.  
“I got you a delicious apple, dear!” he says, pulling said fruit from his pocket and he smiles when he sees Pegasus ears snapping up when he smells the apple on Jaskiers hand. A few seconds later the gelding is happily munching, sprinkling the juice spilling out of his muzzle everywhere when he excitedly nods his head, making Jaskier laugh again.  
“I’m going to search for the inn, dear, I’m starting to get hungry myself and I’m a bit tired. I’m sure you’re taken good care of here. Rest well, my dear Pegasus!”  
Jaskier gives the horse a long hug, stroking its chest and scrubbing the mane.  
“See you tomorrow!”  
He picks up his newly bought things and stuffs them into one of the bags before shouldering them. He waves at Pegasus and leaves for the inn.

Waking up to the first flares of the morning sun crawling over the horizon never was one of the reasons he tagged along with Geralt. He loved to sleep in but by now he is so used to it, that he doesn’t even need to force himself to get up. Jaskier grimaces when he realizes that his first thought of the day was once again about the Witcher. Since he gave in that he indeed does have feelings for that man he sneaks into his mind and dreams way too often. How was he supposed to forget about him like this?  
Frowning he rubs the sleep from his eyes and starts getting dressed.  
Taking his time with breakfast he thinks about his family. He only saw them once after he left to be a traveling bard. But that was the price he had to pay for his dreams. His mother always reassured him that he leaves - on condition that he sends her a letter once in a while. And he always did, telling her of all the adventures he went in with... Geralt, of course not to full detail because he didn’t want to worry her too much. He told her, that he went to study the Seven Arts at the academy in Oxenfurt and that he even became a guest lecturer and professor. He was sure that she was proud of him. Maybe even his father was, although he didn’t think much of Jaskiers chosen path. He always wanted Jaskier to follow in his footsteps, becoming a viscount.  
‘Oh,’ he thinks.  
‘Perhaps I can do that now.’  
Jaskier nods to himself and finishes his breakfast. He grabs the bags and his lute, pays for the food and makes his way to the stables.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, to be honest, I have no idea where Jaskier really is from, I couldn't find anything on that matter. I only found out that a cousin of him does live in Kerack, so I decided Jaskiers whole family is from there.  
> Aaaaand in the next chapter we FINALLY get to know about that letter from the summary ;)  
> I really do hope it'll make up for those more or less nonsense chapters but it felt so wrong to just skip his travel ... so I had to keep that in :')


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back with a new chapter that took me waaaaay too long to write, but hey, its about 500 words longer than the last one! 
> 
> Once again thank you so much for all the kudos <3 
> 
> Also, I'm sorry I still didn't reply to the comments, I'm so not good at this, please bear with me.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy the new chapter!

The sun just reached its highest point for the day, covering everything it can reach in a bright glow. The air is buzzing with diligent bees, chirping birds filling the few trees on the fields next to the dusty road. Soft gusts of wind rustling through the light green leaves and the tall grass. The smell of different wildflowers and the salty sea swirl across farmlands. Here and there farmers are tending to their fields.  
Jaskier sighs. He isn’t far from Kerack and if he’s honest he has to admit that he is nervous. Being absent for almost twenty summers he doesn’t know what to expect.  
The lighthouse build of red and white bricks is the first building he sees after the road takes a slight curve. Then the shacks and sheds that are lining up next to slaughterhouses and shambles appear. All kinds of stalls are squeezed everywhere, hucksters shouting their offered wares and prices. The taverns and whorehouses lay still at that time of the day.  
Jaskier signals Pegasus to walk faster. He wants to leave the Palmyra area of the town as fast as possible. Thieves and other dirty vermin are a well-known threat here. Luckily nobody steps close to them and they reach the bridge crossing the Adalatte river, leading to the palisade walling the city proper of Upper Kerack. The guards at the guardhouse don’t pay him any attention when he rides through.  
Behind the gate, narrow streets lead through houses, shops, and entertainment venues. The Main Street - Spicy Marketplace - leads directly to a square market place cornered by the town hall, theater, court and the houses of the elite.  
Jaskier directs Pegasus to the street leading to the right side of Upper Kerack. Soon the street gets wider. He passes the widely known tavern Natura Rerum before reaching the Villa District. It’s built directly on top of the cliff, terraces hanging over the edge. The sea glittering in the sun now covers the entire horizon. Jaskiers heart starts beating higher into his throat when he remembers all the beautiful sunsets he had watched there with his mother, sometimes with his father as well.  
Most citizens seem to be at the market still or staying at home after their lunch as the street is empty.  
He brings his gelding to a stop and dismounts, tying him to a hitching rail.  
“I’ll be back as soon as I’ll have a place for you to stay, my dear!” Jaskier says and fishes an apple from one of his bags.  
Pegasus happily takes it from the bard's flat hand. He nudges Jaskiers shoulder as if he’d say ‘What are you waiting for, go!’ and Jaskier laughs.  
“On my way already!”

Jaskiers heart is beating hard when he steps up to the villa he grew up in and when he knocks he realizes his hands are shaking. He waits for a short while before someone appears the door.  
It’s a maid and her eyes go wide when she looks at him.  
“Master Julian, is that really you?!” she asks staggered.  
“Madeleine! Yes, yes, it’s me! It’s so nice to see you’re still here!”  
Jaskiers eyes are glowing when he recognizes the maid as the woman that always had an eye on him and his sister. A wide smile sweeps the tired look on his face away.  
“Please come all in, Master Julian, I’ll inform your sister that you’re here! She’ll be so delighted to see you!”  
The smile freezes in Jaskiers face.  
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Master Julian. The letter didn’t reach you?” Madeleine asks quietly, a sad glimmer in her eyes, a hand on Jaskiers arm.  
With slouching shoulders, the bard shakes his head.  
“No, dear, it did not. But I have to be honest, I already expected it. I hoped not, of course, I’d have loved to see my beloved parents again.”  
A saddened expression washes over Jaskiers face.  
“Will you be okay, Master Julian?”  
“Yes, yes, thank you, Madeleine, dear, I’d just... like to sit down and maybe have a drink?”  
Jaskier gives her a weak smile and the maid eagerly leads him into the parlor.  
“Please sit down wherever you like while I’ll prepare a drink for you, Master Julian. Do you want wine?”  
“That would be wonderful, Madeleine, dear, thank you!” Jaskier says maybe a bit too enthusiastic because Madeleine gives him a worried look.  
While the maid is gone Jaskier lets his gaze wander around the room.  
It looks exactly like he remembers it. Opposite the door is the big hearth, framed by two high bookshelves which are stuffed with all kinds of books. On the left wall, two big glass windows let in the sunlight. A big cabinet takes up most of the wall on the right side where also a door leads to another room. Colorful panels of textiles are decorating the walls. A rug is laying in front of the hearth and two comfortable settees are arranged to face the hearth, a small low table in between.  
He sits down on one of the settees and waits for the maid to return. It doesn’t take her long to walk back into the room, a salver with a bottle of red wine and two glasses.  
“I’m sure Lady Verena would like to drink with you”, she explains when she sees Jaskiers questioning look. He nods in agreement.  
After Madeleine had put the salver down on the table she makes her way to the quarters upstairs to get his sister.  
Not long after he can hear someone running down the stairs and then the doors swings open.  
“Julian!”  
He jumps up and seconds later his sister is hugging him tightly.  
“Gods, I’ve missed you so much!” she sobs and Jaskier feels tears rising in his eyes.  
“I’ve missed you too, Verena,” he says quietly and hugs her back.  
They stay like this for a while before Verena takes a step back. She wipes her eyes and smiles.  
“Damn Julian, you still look like the day you’ve left,” she says astonished and sits down on the settee. Jaskier plops down next to her.  
“Tell me about your adventures, Julian.”  
And Jaskier does.

They talk for hours, Jaskier about his travels with Geralt, he even tells her about all the heartache that man had caused him, while Verena tells him about their parents and occurrences around Kerack. The wine bottle is empty when Jaskier suddenly jumps up.  
“Oh darn, I promised Pegasus to find him a better place than the hitching rail!”  
“There’s a stable around the corner for the residents, I’m sure there’s more than enough space!” Verena says and gets up as well.  
“I can ask Madeleine to bring him there if you want.”  
“Ah, I’d prefer to lead him myself. Maybe you want to come along and meet him? He’s such a wonderful horse! Stubborn but a sweetheart. You’ll like him!”

With Pegasus being safe in the stables Jaskier is getting tired. Madeleine lets them know that she got their beds ready for the night and they stop in front of Jaskiers old room.  
“You know, mom gave me a small package to put away for when you return. I’ve put it into the cabinet in your room.” Verena tells him before wishing him a good night and disappearing into her own quarters.  
Curious about the package he opens the drawers of the cabinet and takes the package over to his bed.  
When he opens the lid the first thing he sees is a letter. He takes it out and opens the wax seal.  
Immediately he recognizes the beautiful curled writing of his mother. He begins reading.

_‘My dear Julian,_

_that you are reading this letter means that I sadly can’t talk to you about all of this in person.  
But afore I want to say that I am proud of you for that you have mastered the Seven Arts. Your father took pride in your achievement as well although he would never admit to it. Oh, he even liked your songs, dear son, he would always ask the bards in Natura Rerum to play your ballads!’_

Jaskier can hear the amused soft chuckles his mother probably made at that point and he can’t help it but smile.

_‘He really missed you. And so did I. But I know, I gave you my blessings for your adventures. I always knew you weren’t born for staying at the same place for long. I kept all of the letters you sent me from your travels. You know, I always took the time to write letters back to you but I knew they won’t reach you.  
I wish I could have met your Witcher, Geralt of Rivia. He really seems to be a wonderful friend and companion to you and I would have loved to tell him my sincere thanks for keeping you safe. Will you do that for me, dear, please?’_

Jaskier swallows hard. The memories of Geralts face sweep back into his mind. He shakes his head and continues reading.

_‘I could keep writing about how proud your father and I are, but I am afraid that I have to write this letter for a different reason.  
My dear son, I hope what I have to tell you won’t hurt your heart too badly. It pains me to write this down to you not being able to comfort you. I have thought about how to word it for so long now. I really wanted to write it as gentle as possible but no matter how I twisted my words it would always sound wrong. My dear Julian, you have to know we always loved you as our son and we will always keep loving you as our son although we aren’t from the same blood.’_

Jaskiers eyes widen as he reads that last sentence, again and again, his stomach clenching with every time he repeats it.

_‘You came to Kerack with a traveling merchant, he said he came all the way from Nazair where he found you on a road, shoes missing, clothes ripped and covered in dirt. Your father and I were at the market when he arrived. Our hearts broke when he told us about your fate and we offered to raise you along with your sister Verena. And we did raise you as our own flesh and blood. We love you as our own flesh and blood. And you have to believe me when I say that we never regretted taking you. You are a wonderful person, Julian. And it broke my heart that I couldn’t tell you, couldn’t hug you to show how much you mean to me.’_

Jaskier let’s out a strangled cry, tears falling onto the letter in his hands. He can’t bring himself to continue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You have NO idea how fucking hard it is to tell someone they're adopted even if they're damn fictional characters ... that part in the letter took me HOURS, holy shit. 
> 
> Let's see what else he finds in the package next time, shall we? ;)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got the feeling this chapter is a mess. It took me so long to write. It sounds quite right to me now, but it feels a bit off on some points still. Dunno what I could change about it tho, so I decided to upload it FINALLY. But I'm proud that I made it to nearly 2000 words this time, I'm really getting better at that, haha. 
> 
> I also realized that I called the maid Madeleine... this wasn't intentional, I just liked the name. And today I found out it's the name of the girl from Joey's band... whoops. 
> 
> As always, thanks for the kudos, bookmarks, comments ... and thank you for reading! <3

Jaskiers hands are shaking when he finally puts the letter down. His tears dried to salty lines on his cheeks, his eyes red and swollen. He sits leaned onto the headboard of the bed, his legs tugged to his chest, arms and head rested on his knees. Dry sobs are escaping his throat from time to time. He has no idea how long he’s been sitting like this when he hears the door to his room open and he raises his head enough to see who enters. It’s Verena. She silently closes the door and comes to sit down next to him on the bed. Without saying a word she pulls him into her arms.   
It feels like hours until Verena starts talking.   
“I’m so sorry that you had to learn it from a letter, Julian.”  
Her voice is only a soft whisper.   
Jaskier takes a shuddering breath.   
“Why didn’t she tell me when I was still with you?” he asks quietly, laying his head into her shoulder.   
“I don’t know. I think she was scared.”  
“Why would she have been scared? I’d never have stopped seeing her as my mother, she still IS my mother and nothing ever will change that. And I’m sure she knew,” Jaskier says, a bit anger swinging with his words.   
“That... that wasn’t the reason I think.”  
Verena leans forward and pulls the package closer to them. She reaches inside and takes something out, wrapped in scraps of cloth.   
“I’m really sorry but ... I had to look inside after mother died, I wanted to know what’s going on”, she admits. Jaskier just nods, he probably would have done the same and there’s no reason to be angry at his sister.   
“I think that mother was worried because of this.”  
She puts the small wrapping into Jaskiers hand. Slowly he starts removing the fabrics and inhales sharply when a strangely familiar medallion falls into his bare hand. The round silver pendant feels cold to his skin. The relief of a falcon is gleaming in the flickering light of the candles.   
“This can’t be”, he hisses his gaze glued to the necklace. With a sudden movement he snatches the letter from the bed, hastily scanning the lines he didn’t read yet. He curses and when he can’t find any further explanations.   
“This doesn’t make any sense.”  
He feels the panic rising in his chest, his heart beating way too fast now. Fingers digging into his brown hair he tries to think until Verena speaks up.   
“Julian, I know this is a lot but PLEASE calm down, you’re scaring me!”   
She lays her slender fingers around his arms, pulling them down into his lap so that he has to look at her.   
“Talk to me. Why did that necklace make you lose your mind like this?”  
Jaskier glares at her in agony, the panic now clenching his throat, breathing getting harder by every second.   
“Julian, please, try to calm down!”  
Verena's voice is swinging with worry. But Jaskier doesn’t hear her, his ears are ringing, he begins to tremble. His blue eyes filled with fear, tiny pearls of sweat building on his forehead.   
“Fuck,” he forces out, clawing his fingernails into Verena's arm.   
“Fuck,” he repeats, his eyes trying to focus on his sisters. But she turns her head away, facing the door.   
“MADELEINE!” she yells with shaking voice. It doesn’t take long until the door flies open and the maid hurries inside. She doesn’t say a word, she just crawls next to them onto the bed, placing her arms around Jaskier, holding him tight in a hug.   
“Shhhh, I’m here now, everything will be okay, dear,” she whispers, running her fingers through his hair. His grip around Verena's arm loosens and she pulls back, watching the scene from a saver distance.   
The closeness from the maid is seemingly working, Jaskier isn’t trembling anymore. He closes his eyes when tears start spilling out again. Sobbing he clings to the woman next to him. 

It feels like an eternity until Jaskier can finally focus his thoughts again. He takes a deep breath and leans away from the maid.   
“Thanks, Madeleine, I think... I’m... through it...” he croaks and wipes his face with the sleeve of his doubler.   
“You had those attacks a lot after you came to live with us, Julian. But when you grew older and the memories of whatever has happened to you faded, your panic disappeared”, Madeleine explains.   
“I don’t remember...”   
His voice is still hoarse.   
“You don’t have to remember, Julian. You should try to sleep, I know that those attacks are draining. So please rest.”  
Jaskier nods weakly when the maid collects the letter and the package from his bed to put it onto the nightstand. She reaches for the medallion, that fell out of Jaskiers hand earlier, but he is faster. He shakes his head.   
“I want to wear it...”, he says without knowing why he feels the urge to put the necklace around his neck.   
“As you wish, but please promise that you’ll lay down and close your eyes.”  
“I will, Madeleine, thank you for being there,” he smiles at the maid.   
Verena steps out of the shadows next to his bed, she looks relieved.   
“I’ll stay with you until you’re asleep, I won’t leave you alone,” she says and Jaskier nods, grateful. 

The next morning comes way too fast. Jaskier sits up with a grunting noise and flinches when he realizes that his sister is sleeping on the end of his bed. She must have fallen asleep before she was able to go to her own bed. The bard smiles and carefully slides out of the bed. He picks up another blanket, that is laying on a chair and covers her with it. On his way to the door, his gaze falls onto the mirror from the vanity. His eyes are red and dark rings are visible below them. His hair is messy but for once he doesn’t care. Then his gaze wanders to the medallion on his chest. He closes his hand around it and sighs.   
He grabs his clothes hanging on another chair and leaves the room silently.   
He walks down the stair, crosses the hallway and enters the parlor. He steps in front of one of the bookshelves and starts reading the titles on the back of the books. He’s determined to find anything that could help him understand what has happened the night before.   
He is halfway through the books when he hears the wooden floor creak. He spins around and Madeleine looks at him as startled as he is himself. The maid is the first one to speak.   
“Master Julian! You’re up already? How do you feel?”  
“Hm. My head hurts and I’m confused,” Jaskier admits.   
“That’s understandable. I wanted to prepare breakfast, do you wish for anything?”   
“No, no, I’m fine. Would it be okay if I’d help you with breakfast? Maybe some distraction would be good...”  
“If you want to,” Madeleine replies with a warm smile and Jaskier follows her to the kitchen. 

They sit on the table in the dining room, quietly finishing their breakfast. Verena had joined them not long after they entered the kitchen. She looks tired and Jaskier feels guilt creeping up in his mind. He had tried to apologize earlier but she just waved it off and smiled at him.   
“I wish Geralt was here... he’d know what to do,” Jaskier mutters, not realizing he said it out loud.   
“Why?” Verena asks without hesitation.   
Jaskier flinches.   
“I...uh...”   
Absentminded his fingers wander to the medallion, touching the now warm metal.   
“He would know what this means,” he says sighing.   
“Why don’t you two go to the bibliotheca later? I’m afraid, you won’t find anything useful in the books your father used to collect,” Madeleine suggests, looking up from her meal.   
Jaskier just nods and finishes his breakfast quickly. He couldn’t get up fast enough and hurried upstairs to get dressed as he was still wearing his nightwear.   
He shouted a “Meet you at the library!” to Verena and then he was out of the door. 

Surrounded by a lot of books that are towering on the table he’s sitting at and skimming through the pages of another book he doesn’t notice that his sister is approaching him.   
“I’m sorry it took a bi-“ she starts but is interrupted when Jaskier jumps out of the chair, throwing some of the books over the edge of the table and glaring at her startled.   
“Fuck, you scared me,” he says and laughs nervously.   
“I did see that... I’m sorry, I should have made myself noticeable earlier,” Verena replies a bit taken aback by his harsh words.   
“Yeah, guess it’s from sleeping in the wild most of the time for the past two decades, got used to monsters and bandits jumping at me from the bushes behind me.”  
He shrugs and picks up the books to put them onto the table again.   
“That sounds horrible. Weren’t you scared?”  
Verena grabs the chair from the next table and puts it next to Jaskiers.   
“Not really, no. I knew... I knew that Geralt would protect me, save me from whatever was trying to kill me.”  
Jaskier swallows hard, trying not to think about the Witcher too much. Verena seemed to understand without him saying it out loud so she decided to change the topic.   
“So what exactly are we looking for?” she asks and takes the book closest to her.   
“Have you ever seen something like this medallion before?”  
The bard points at the necklace he’s wearing and Verena shakes her head, her brown locks bobbing with the movement.   
“Well, Mother wrote I was wearing it already when the merchant found me. But to me, it doesn’t make any sense that I have it. It’s the medallion of a Witcher,” Jaskier explains and Verena gives him a puzzled look.   
“A Witcher Medallion?”  
“Yes, I’m certain. It looks exactly like Ge... uh... just the symbol is different. I mean... I obviously can’t... can’t be a Witcher, but why do I have it? It just doesn’t make sense, a Witcher doesn’t give his medallion away, it’s a tool they need to survive.”  
He scratches the back of his head, thinking.   
“And yet I don’t know why I panicked when I saw the medallion. Something in my subconscious mind was clearly triggered by that damn piece of metal. Something did happen to me and it has to do with that thing.”   
Jaskier presses the palms of his hand to his temples.   
“I just can’t get through to those memories, although I can _feel_ them being there, in the back of my head.”  
“Don’t stress yourself too much, Julian. It’ll just give you a headache. I’m sure we’ll find something that’ll help us in those books,” Verena says softly and Jaskier let’s out a huff.   
“Already having the headache. Anyway, what I’m looking for is the mention of a Witcher’s school in Nazair. It most certainly will be called something like ‘School of the Falcon’ or something similar.”  
“What are you going to do when you find a hint on that school? And what to Witchers have schools for?”   
“Hmm, I don’t know yet,” Jaskier admits, before he explains further.   
“They’re not... schools exactly. Witchers are made there. You know, they’re brought there as humans, boys, and they’re mutated, I don’t know how it works, but it makes them stronger, faster, they can use simple magical signs and they become kind of immortal, they aren’t affected by age anymore.”  
Verena flinches.   
“Immortal? Julian, you do realize you haven’t aged since you’ve left?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh oh, what's going on?   
> I've got the feeling that Jaskiers adventure will get a bit more interesting from now on, what do you think?


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaah I'm so sorry that it took me so long to update T-T   
> There's a lot going on in my life right now so I was rather busy trying to not lose my mind. Anyway, hope you'll like the new chapter!
> 
> !!! Contains some spoilers for both the netflix series and the books !!!

Eerie silence sweeps through the library. Jaskier is frozen in his movement, holding his breath. His eyes are wide in shock and disbelieve, his lips parted in a silent gasp while he stares at his sister. He didn’t see her crow’s feet before. Or the tiny wrinkles on her forehead and above her cheeks. The few grey hair sprinkling through her brown mane. He’s never realized. Slowly he raises his hand, his fingers brushing over the skin next to his eyes, his cheeks. It’s soft, feeling young and fresh under his tips.  
“No,” he whispers faintly, slowly shaking his head.  
“I can’t be ... I’m not a Witcher! Look at my eyes! I’m not able to any of this witchery bullshit!”  
His voice is getting louder with each word that leaves his lips and in the end, he is standing, still glaring at Verena, clenching his fists. Verena gets up too, laying her hands gently on his upper arms.  
“Julian, it doesn’t have to mean that you’re a Witcher, there are other explanations for sure. I know it’s a terrifying thought but I’ll help you find out,” she reassures him.  
Jaskier exhales sharply and slumps back onto the chair.  
“I don’t even know what to think right now.”  
He rests his elbows on the table, hands clutched into his hair again.

Dusk is wrapping everything in faint light when Verena suddenly calls his name.  
“Julian! I think I found something! Here, look at that!”  
She holds a weathered kind of notebook out to him. He takes it from her hand, quickly scanning over the almost unreadable lines.

_‘... Just where is the School of the Bear? Some say hidden amidst the Slopes. Others argue it’s found farther south, beyond the Amell Mountains. In fact, no one truly knows. And it’s no surprise that Bear Witchers have kept their whereabouts a secret, for the slaughter of the Wolf and Cat schools was known far and wide...’_ *

Jaskier grimaces.  
“That’s the wrong school.”  
He rubs his eyes, tired from reading for the whole day, with only short breaks to grab food.  
“No, no, keep reading! Below that unreadable paragraph!”

_‘... failed to complete the contract. The cabal of vampires escaped, going on a rampage, killing almost everyone in the village. The following riots by nearby towns in frustration lead to the Bears' downfall. The castle in the Amell Mountains is left in disrepair, victim to the strong winds and heavy snowfalls. It is believed that the remaining Witchers build a new school, hidden away in the fogs of the Devil Mountain. Not one source could confirm this. Another rumor implies that they wear the symbol of the falcon...’_

“Wow... wow, that’s... that’s just... you found it,” Jaskier stammers, brushing the hair out of his face.  
“I mean... just rumors but... my... my medallion proves it, right? I should travel to that... what was it called? Devil mountain? Is that its name? Is there a map somewhere? I need a map...”  
Frantically Jaskier starts searching the table, towering books so high they almost tumble over, while Verena tries to put them onto the floor into safety.  
“Julian, you need a break. Let’s continue with that tomorrow, okay? You’re becoming all jittery right now.”  
“But-“  
“No buts. We go home now, I’m sure Madeleine already started with preparing dinner. Let’s not make her wait.”  
She said it in such a strict way that Jaskier gives in without further resistance. He knows that his sister is right and his eyes really do need a break. They’re burning and feeling horribly dry. He sighs and nods. Together they’re quickly putting the books back into their places before leaving the library.  
“We have a map of the continent in fathers room, after dinner we can have a look at it.”

The room was small, the walls covered in bookshelves and paintings. A small table and a chair are standing cramped in front of the window in between two of the shelves.  
“Here, take this and sit down while I’ll get the map.”  
Verena shoves something into Jaskiers hands. Looking down, he stops in the middle of the room. The thing in his hands is the notebook they found in the library earlier.  
“You stole it!” Jaskier gasps stunned.  
She just gives him a smug grin over her shoulder and winks. A ghost of a smile on his lips he walks the few steps towards the table and sits down. Parchment rustles behind him and he leans to the side to make enough space for Verena to unroll the map. The dust that has collected on it makes his nose tickle.  
“So, the Amell Mountains are down there somewhere, marking the border of Cintra and Nazair,” Verena explains, pointing to an area south of the Yaruga river.  
“Nilfgaard is down there, they’re marching for Cintra, I think, people tell stories of a lost battle in the Valley of Marnadal,” Jaskier says scowling.  
“King Eist of Cintra lost his life during that battle...,” Verena confirms, a sad look on her face.  
“Bastards...”  
“Julian, are you sure you want to travel to that Devils Mountain, or however it was called?” Verena now sounds worried.  
Jaskiers gaze wanders to the window. He knows traveling to the war zone is dangerous, even life-threatening for someone like him who isn’t trained more than the basics in sword fighting. But he is sure, this horrible feeling of restlessness and uncertainty about who he really is will drive him insane in no time. His eyes back on the map he tracks the route he’d have to take to reach the mountain range. Along the coast of Verden and the forest of Brokilon, crossing the Yaruga at the borders of Brugge into the Kingdom of Cintra. He wouldn’t get close to the city of Cintra tough, maybe around a five days ride away. Maybe he’d be lucky enough to not run into the Nilfgaard army.  
“Yes, I am. I don’t think Nilfgaard would attack a traveling bard,” he says after a while.  
“Maybe it would be better to wait until the war with them is sorted out,” Verena objects concerned.  
“Verena, I know it will be dangerous but I’m willing to take all the risks to find out what the fuck I am. And if I don’t go soon I will go insane. I came here because I wanted to settle down, but destiny decided another path for me. There is so much going on in my mind right now that I can’t hear my own thoughts anymore. I promise you, I’ll take care of myself. I’m not defenseless, well, not totally defenseless. Two decades on the road taught me how to survive.”  
His voice is honest and confident.  
“Oh Julian, I just don’t want to lose you as well. You’re the only family I have left. But I won’t be standing in your way if that’s what you truly want.”  
Verena's shoulders slouch, a somber gleam in her eyes. Jaskier bites his lip before taking a deep breath through his nose. He nods.  
“Let’s search for that damn mountain. It has to have another name. Didn’t see a Devil Mountain on the map,” he says quietly, not wanting to reply to his sisters' remark.  
“I think father had a book on geography in one of those shelves.”  
They spot the book rather fast and finding out about the mountains true name doesn’t turn out to be difficult as well. The mountain sits enthroned east of the Amell range as its highest peak, bordering the kingdom of Toussaint.  
“Mount Gorgon it is then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I stole that part from the Witcher Wiki tbh
> 
> If you want to keep updated on my progress of new chapters you can check out my twitter (twitter.com/midori509). Sometimes I'll rant about my story on there. I also tweet a lot of bs I'm afraid


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all again <3

Verena had convinced Jaskier to stay a few more weeks at their home, preparing for his travel to the smallest detail. Together they planned his route, and Verena being a viscountess turned out to be very helpful with figuring out the past movements of the Nilfgaardian Army, making it easier to avoid the areas in which Jaskier could run into them. He won’t be able to use the road leading through the Marnadal Valley towards Nazair, the risk of stumbling right into a war camp or battle zone way too high. They figured out, his best chance would be to ride alongside the Yaruga until he reaches the slopes of the Amell Mountains. From there it’ll become easier as Nilfgaard left that area long behind.  
He also had purchased a shortsword and took lessons in fighting with it. Yet he hoped he won’t need to use his weapon.  
His sister also insisted to buy him a better saddle for Pegasus, one that was more comfortable for long rides. Jaskier rejected at first but Verena wouldn’t let his protests count, so he now owned a beautiful black saddle, padded with soft sheep-wool and two fitting saddlebags he could attach.  
And tomorrow is the day he will leave. Only the rations for the first part of his journey aren’t prepared yet.  
He heads for the market, accompanied by his sister and Madeleine, each of them carrying a bag that they’re planning to fill with dry meat, fruits, bread, and cheese. He’ll have to refill his rations in the towns he passes as he doesn’t want to hunt for his food. He’s sure he’d starve if he tried.  
A few hours later their shopping is done, Verena even bought some sweets for him, to brighten up rainy days, she said.  
The last day with his sister passes in a blur, his thoughts focused on the travel that lies ahead of him. Although he knows it’s going to be a long and probably hellish travel, he doesn’t feel scared.  
His departure comes closer quickly, he feels like he didn’t sleep at all when he walks into the stable the next morning. Pegasus greets him with a happy neigh. They’ve become good partners over the past weeks, had trained together a lot. Jaskier learned how to fight while sitting on his geldings back, while Pegasus learned to trust Jaskier. He still was stubborn from time to time though and Jaskier doubts that that’ll change any time soon. With a smile on his face he pats the horse's neck before putting the harness on. Pegasus follows him out of the stable without Jaskier having to pull the reins.  
In front of the house, he ties him to the hitching post he already used on his first day in Kerack. He pats the gelding again before walking back to the house.  
His baggage and the saddle are waiting in the entrance hall to be brought outside. He picks up the saddle and carries it over to Pegasus. With a few quick movements he saddles him up and he thinks that he could do it blind by now. He hurries back inside, grabbing the saddlebags. They’re heavy with his rations, a few notebooks and quills, clothes and even a second pair of boots. When the bags are secured under the back of the saddle he gathers up the rest. A water skin, a bedroll, and his lute are the last things he straps to the saddle. His sword is attached to his belt.

Verena and Madeleine are sitting on one of the settees, looking up when Jaskier steps into the parlor.  
“I’m ready,” he announces and shifts nervously from one foot to the other. He hates goodbyes. The two women get up and walk him to the door. Madeleine hesitates but then gives Jaskier a short hug.  
“Please take good care of yourself, Julian,” she says and takes a step back. Jaskier just nods. His throat feels tight and he is sure he’s going to tear up if he speaks now. Verena's hug is a lot longer as if she doesn’t want to let go of him.  
“I’m going to miss you a lot,” she whispers.  
“Will miss you, too,” he replies as quiet as her, eyes stinging with tears he doesn’t want to cry. When they release the hug Verena's presses a kiss onto his cheek.  
“Take care, dear brother.”  
“I will. And I promise I’ll come back.”  
He turns away when he sees tears rolling over his sister's face. He swallows hard.  
Pegasus is untied and Jaskier swings onto his back.

Kerack disappears behind him, it’s around noon when Jaskier sees the top of the lighthouse for the last time. To his left, the borders of the Brokilon Forest appears on the horizon. Jaskier has heard the tales about how huge the forest is when he was a boy. He never believed them, his young brain not able to understand that something so large can exist, but when he first saw the forest while traveling with Geralt he was simply overwhelmed by its sheer size. And he is again. Although he can see the dark green of the trees they just won’t come closer for hours. Only when dusk starts to dip everything into the orange light of the sinking sun he reaches the edge of the forest. He lets Pegasus follow a small path in between the trees until they reach a small clearing. He dismounts and prepares the camp for the night.  
Jaskier sits on his bedroll, watching Pegasus graze a few steps away from him. He didn’t light a fire, the air is warm enough, so he only can see his horse thanks to its white fur that contrasts with the pitch-black forest behind it.  
The thought of being alone in the wilderness, after sleeping in a bed for weeks, in a safe place, makes him uncomfortable. He wonders if it was the right decision to leave his family behind once again. He could have had a normal life with his sister, far away from the dangers of the world. Maybe he would have met a nice lady, making him forget about the feelings about that damn Witcher. He still misses him although he lost hope to see him again long ago.  
Suddenly his medallion starts humming and he flinches out of his thoughts. He feels his heartbeat becoming faster as his ears try to pick up any noise that could mean that a monster is approaching him. Tales of ‘ _the Forest of Death_ ’ come back to his mind. All the stories of the monsters living inside this ancient forest, all the stories about people dying and disappearing when they get to close to the trees. But before he can grab his sword, he put next to his bedroll, the humming fades. He lets out a shuddering breath, not having realized that he held it in. His heart is still beating hard against his rib cage.  
He spends the rest of the night dozing, eyes snapping open at every small noise that reaches his ears.

Jaskier never felt more relieved about the rising sun as he is the next morning. The faint flares crawl over the moss-covered ground. He digs into his bag, bringing out a piece of bread and dry meat for his spare breakfast.  
Afterward, he saddles up Pegasus and quickly leaves the clearing behind, returning to the road.  
It takes him another day's ride to reach the first town on his route.  
Ansegis is small and he guesses it’s the reason the inn doesn’t have a room left, but the kind innkeeper offers Jaskier to overnight in the stables. He gladly accepts.  
Later that evening he picks up his lute for the first time in a while and plays for the patrons. Ah, he really missed it. The tension that had build up during the last month leaves his body at an instant and later, although he’s laying in the straw, he sleeps well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's getting more interesting very soon, I promise!! T-T


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe that I've uploaded the 10th chapter already?!   
> This is the longest story I've ever written?! 
> 
> Aaah, thank you all for sticking around <3

Streets busy with people hurrying around the stalls scattered around them, yelling and cursing at each other when they bumped into someone. Drunks grabbing women passing by, angry husbands and brothers starting fights with them, most of them inebriated as well.  
The barony of Hamm is as loud as Jaskier remembers it from the first time he’s been there. He chuckles to himself, replaying the memories of the events happening back at his first visit.  
He was with Geralt, passing through when no one else but King Ervyll himself called the Witcher for help. Baron Freixenet was cursed and turned into a cormorant and all efforts to break the curse had failed, so their last hope was Geralt. Of course, the Witcher had managed to lift the curse in no time. Turned out, the baron only had to apologize for what he said to a woman he’d broken up with earlier.  
‘At least the baron was perceptive, not like Geralt...’ Jaskier thinks and grimaces.

Four days later Jaskier is leaving Nastrog behind, a fortified town at the coast, next to where the Yaruga merges with the Great Sea. The rainy season yet to come it doesn’t carry a lot of water.  
On the other side of the mostly empty riverbed he can make out the town of Cintra, it’s castle throning over the town beneath it.  
A horrified gasp escapes him, and he harshly pulls Pegasus' reigns to bring him to a stop. The gelding complains with an offended neigh and a shake of his head. Jaskier ignores it, feeling his heart drop, suddenly heavy with grief and anguish. The rooftops of the once beautiful castle are burned, surrounding buildings only left in ruins. Fear is pooling in his stomach, realizing, that Verena's informations weren’t up to date. Cintra had fallen.

Dusk is still far away when Jaskier rides through the gates of Rozrog. With Pegasus being taken care of in the stable he hurries to the tavern, questions about Cintra burning in his mind. Luckily the barkeeper is a talkative old woman and it doesn’t take much to convince her to talk to him, although he is sure he wasn’t quite nice to her in the beginning. She tells him, that Nilfgaard had attacked about one month ago, not long after the battle of Marnadal Valley. Weakened from the first battle Cintra hadn’t stood a chance and he learns that not many survived the slaughter. Silently he hopes that Geralt made it back in time to save his child surprise. His thoughts get lost in the memories of that evening Geralt demanded the law of surprise, the way he had looked at him the whole time, his soft, warm and golden eyes burned into his mind. He is sure that it was that night he fell for that damn Witcher. The old barkeeper abruptly pulls him out of his thoughts when she tells him that the Nilfgaardian Army seemingly is on the way to Sodden, the kingdom he was also heading to. The fear he had felt since the morning sinks deeper. He has to be more careful from now on.

The next morning he stocks up his rations before he continues his travel towards Bodrog, another fortress at the Yaruga. It will be his last stop in civilization for about a whole week. He spends the night in the tavern, drinking, playing his lute and singing to the patrons.

Drenched to the bone he makes his way through the fields and meadows next to the road. On the second day after leaving Bodrog black clouds had started to cover the sky in front of him and for the last three days now the rain hadn’t stopped once. By now the rain has made the road impassable, the stones covered in slippery mud, forcing Jaskier to keep riding next to it. The Yaruga is swelling rapidly, colored brown from all the dirt it is carrying along.  
With the light dulling quickly he reaches the slopes of the Owl Hills. Annoyed and freezing he manages to find a small cave hidden away from the road before the darkness takes over completely. It’s big enough that Pegasus can enter the cave as well. He quickly unsaddles the gelding and dries his fur with a rag he pulled out of the saddlebags which turned out to be waterproof and he silently thanks his sister for buying them. He then hurries out of the cave again, picking up a few sticks scattered around the few trees close to the cave. Back inside he changes into his spare and dry clothes before trying to set up a fire.  
Cursing and discouraged he gives up after several unsuccessful tries as the wood is too wet, swollen and soaked from the heavy rainfall. Groaning he drops to his bottom, sitting in complete darkness by now. Frustrated his thoughts wander towards Geralt once again and how the Witcher was able to set everything ablaze he wanted to, even while it was raining.  
He snorts when the idea that he could just try to use Igni himself crosses his mind.  
“As if...,” he mumbles to himself with a bitter smile and gets up to his feet. Carefully he makes his way to his belongings, fumbling for his bedroll. He unrolls it and lays down on it, listening to the rain and Pegasus’ calm breaths.  
After a while Jaskier starts to feel cold and uncomfortable, so he gets up again and searches for the pile of sticks. Again, the fire won’t light up and his curses are echoing off the cave's walls. Out of ideas he squats down next to the pile glaring into the darkness.  
His fingers are twitching when his mind brings up Igni again.  
“Yeah, okay, why not, it’s not like anyone can see me being ridiculous,” he mutters. He saw Geralt lighting a fire so many times through all those years at his side that remembering the casting gesture isn’t difficult. He rolls his eyes at himself before forming the gesture with his fingers. He realizes that he actually doesn’t know what else Geralt always does to cast a sign. He never heard him say anything, unlike the sorceresses and mages he met. Maybe he just needs to concentrate at the thought of casting fire? Shrugging he closes his eyes, feeling more foolish with every second passing. He imagines the magic flowing through his arm and pictures a flame forming at the palm of his hand. A weird warmth tingles down in his arm, like a heated liquid flooding his veins and with a startled yelp he yanks his arm back before it reaches his hand.  
“What the fuck?!” he pants, his heart rate rising.  
“Maybe just my damn brain tricking me...”  
And yet he can’t keep himself from trying again. Taking a deep breath he forms the gesture again and concentrates. And the warmth returns, running through his veins. He feels his body wanting to flinch back again but he resists. He is sure that his heart is going to burst through his rib cage when the heat starts pooling in his palm. Suddenly a ball of burning hot flames explodes in front of him, scattering the sticks through the cave, he surges to his feet with a deafening scream, drowning Pegasus startled neigh. The branches in front of him caught fire immediately, bathing the cave in a flickering orange light. His eyes wide, heart racing, breath hitching and frozen in place he stares at the fire in front of him.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, the chapter is so much longer than usually, I really tried my best.  
> I hope you'll like it!
> 
> !! This chapter contains minor spoilers for the books and therefore most probably also for Season 2 !!
> 
> I also think I'll change the summary because the story takes another turn as I had originally planned (don't worry, it's not much different, the summary just doesn't really fit anymore I think?!)

Pegasus’ fearful neigh echoes through the cave, eying the burning branches with wide eyes. Prancing he thinks about fleeing to the outside but when he realizes that Jaskier is frozen in place and breathing heavily. The gelding decides that running away has to wait, he doesn’t want to leave his human friend alone. Carefully avoiding the flames he stalks over to him and nickers softly. He nudges the man's arm and nuzzles his hair. Finally, his human seems to come back to himself. 

Absent-minded Jaskier raises his arm and strokes Pegasus' neck. His fingers tangle up in the horse’s mane before he presses his face into the warm and still damp fur. His breath is slowly getting calmer, his heartbeat quieting down. The shock still lingers in his bones, goosebumps coming and going, his muscles tensing.  
He breathes in the smell of his horse and he feels his spinning mind slowing down, but the dizziness won’t go away yet. Jaskier keeps resting his head on Pegasus' strong shoulder, eternally grateful for the gelding being just right here with him. 

A while later, when he can finally think normally again, Jaskier has kicked the burning branches onto a pile, placing his wet clothes close to the campfire and settled down on his bedroll to eat. Pegasus is dozing close to him, his head hanging low, probably already forgotten about the incident earlier.  
Jaskier still isn’t able to understand what had happened. How would his life change, if he really was at least kind of a Witcher? Maybe there was a completely different explanation for all of the things going on right now? He is determined to find out, although it’s a frightening adventure.  
He could still be a traveling bard, he thinks, with the benefit of being able to defend himself, of course. Seeing it like this is making it a lot less scary, he decides and finishes his dinner. Exhausted from the long day he crawls under his blanket. It doesn’t take long until he falls in a dreamless sleep. 

Chirping birds and warm sunshine in front of the small cave wakes him up. The rainstorm has finally passed through, leaving its earthy scent mingling with the wonderful smell of fresh grass and different flowers.  
Jaskier inhales deeply, stretching his stiff limbs. He spots Pegasus at the mouth of the cave, grazing in the morning-dew covered grass. He smiles at the beautiful view and digs into his bag for breakfast. Chewing on dry meat and bread he watches the horse, that has flicked one of its ears into his direction since he has gotten up. 

Not long after they’re back on the road, heading towards Dillingen, the closest town with a bridge spanning over the Yaruga.  
The five days it takes to reach the gates of Dillingen were bland and uneventful, ignoring the fact that Jaskier had tried to light the campfire with Igni every night again, resulting in exploding branch piles, scattering tiny fires around the whole camp. By now it is rather amusing to him and he knows, he’ll have to learn to control the sign, before it ends in a disaster. He had also tried to use Aard, the only other sign he remembered the gesture for, but he didn’t get more than a tiny puff of wind curling the grass in front of his feet. Definitely improvable.  
His mood is getting better with each passing day, getting more comfortable with his new abilities bit by bit. But his high vanishes into thin air when he spots a black, thick column of smoke on the fourth day after living Dillingen behind. He had just crossed the border to Sodden, carefully following the tracks the Nilfgaardian Army plowed through the river lands of the Yaruga. Hoping, that the battle has already ended by the time he’ll ride through that part of the kingdom, he passes by the Armush Mountains which are flanking the border. 

The smell of burned flesh gets stronger the closer Jaskier comes to the battlefield of Sodden. He guides Pegasus slowly along the Yaruga, his hand calming at his neck. The horse is nervously flaring its nostrils, head bopping up and down, left to right, the ears trying to catch every noise around them.  
Then there is blood on the ground everywhere. The stench is overwhelming and Jaskiers eyes start watering. He pulls a piece of cloth out of his bag and places it over his mouth and nose. The horse below him is trembling, eyes blown wide in fear yet it keeps walking steadily, step after step.  
Jaskier clenches his fingers into the reins, ready to give Pegasus the signal to flee any moment. But they don’t spot one body at all. Someone had already removed them all from the battlefield and Jaskier is relieved that he doesn’t have to see the dead. The smell is now so intense that he is gagging and he’d love to turn around and leave this place, find another way around the Amell Mountains. But something keeps pushing him forward. Something keeps pulling him away from the river, closer to the mountains. He shudders, the cold wind blowing the ashes of burnt grass around the gelding's hooves, whispering, telling about the acts of cruelty that had happened here not too long ago. It takes them a few hours to cross the battlefield to the spur of the mountains that now take up the whole horizon.  
An ice-cold chill runs down his back when he lets his gaze wander and his eyes fall onto a person, sitting curled around themselves, half-hidden behind a small formation of rocks. And suddenly the smell of lilac and gooseberries explodes around him. Jaskier feels as if he’s choking on it, trying to catch his breath. He jumps off his horse, half running towards the person.  
“Yennefer!” he yelps and drops down next to her onto his knees. The sorceress flinches back, her head snapping up and Jaskier let’s out a shocked gasp when he sees her face. A barely healed cut on her forehead, blood smeared across her cheeks but what shocks him the most is her eyes. The violet has completely vanished, just a blur of white and grey stares back at him.  
“Jaskier?” Her voice is weak, the cold strength he is used to is gone.  
“Yes, yes, it’s me, oh my god Yennefer, what happened?”  
He can’t hide that he is worried. A lot. Although he never really liked her, well who could blame him for that, he’s never seen her like that before, so weak and frightened, so he just wants to help her.  
And then, without any warning, Yennefer leaps forwards, her arms wrapping around him and she starts sobbing. Completely taken aback Jaskier carefully places his hands on her back.  
“Please just take me out of here,” she whispers.  
“Can you stand?” he asks softly and Yennefer nods.  
“I just can’t ... see.” Another ugly sob leaves her throat.  
He is glad to see that Pegasus is still standing where he had left him. He greets them with a soft nicker and nudges Jaskiers shoulder.  
“‘s your horse?” Yennefer wants to know with a hoarse voice.  
“Yeah, his name is Pegasus,” Jaskier replies.  
“You think you can sit up? I’ll lead him.”  
Again, Yennefer nods and Jaskier helps her into the saddle, wondering what the hell has happened to the usually powerful woman. Who wasn’t afraid of anyone. He doesn’t push her to talk though. 

It’s quiet around them, no birds or insects dared to come back after the battle and everything feels so unreal to Jaskier. He never thought to see the sorceress again after he had parted ways with Geralt but he was sure that it was fate that he ran into her, found her seemingly in loss of her powers, in her weakest moment. The hate he had felt for her when she took Geralt away from him had disappeared. She never seemed _human_ to him before but seeing her like this makes her more human than anything else. Her face is distorted by pain and fear, her hands, clutching into the saddle in front of her, shaking heavily. Her usually raven black hair is soaked with dried blood and glued to her face. She must have been there since the battle ended, too weakened to even heal her wounds. 

Dusk is approaching fast when Jaskier spots a village at the edge of the forest they’re heading towards to.  
“There’s a village close. Maybe we should rest there for the night,” Jaskier suggests and Yennefer agrees. 

“I’ll see if the inn has a room for... us... you.”  
It feels weird to talk about Yennefer and himself as us, he thinks when he leaves the sorceress standing next to Pegasus and hurries inside. He comes out not long after again, frustration written all over his face.  
“They don’t have any free rooms left...” he announces and sighs.  
“But the innkeeper said we could sleep in the stables. I’m sorry that I couldn’t-“  
“Not your fault,” Yennefer interrupts him, her voice sounding a bit more confident now.  
“Stables are better than the side of a mountain,” she adds frowning.  
In the corner of his eye, he sees the door from the inn opening again. An old man walks towards them.  
“You’re the one who asked for a room for his injured friend, right?”  
Jaskier nods eagerly and Yennefer raises an eyebrow at him.  
“Come with me then, my wife and I have a guest room you can have. Can’t let you two sleep in the stables. Take your horse to our stable, too, will you?”  
He signals them to follow him. Yennefer reaches for Jaskier and he steps in front of her so she can hold to his arm. He tries his best to lead her around sticks and stones on the road and catches her every time she stumbles over something. She’s clearly embarrassed about needing his help.  
“Yurga’s the name, by the way,” the old man introduces himself.  
“I’m Jaskier, that’s-“  
“Yennefer.”  
Yurga nods pleased.  
The man's farmhouse is located at the edge of a forest, spreading behind the village. He points Jaskier to the stable before offering Yennefer to bring her inside already. When Jaskier follows them after tending to Pegasus in the small stable, he is greeted by a small woman. She introduces herself as Zola, Yurga’s wife.  
“Please sit down anywhere you want. Yurga is preparing dinner for your friend and you,” she says smiling.  
“Your friend is upstairs in the bathroom, she literally begged me to prepare her a bath. Poor thing...” she adds when she notices Jaskiers searching eyes.  
“Thank you so much,” he replies and hurries to the open kitchen to see if he can at least help the man with dinner. 

The guest room has two beds Jaskier notices when he brings his bag upstairs. Yennefer is rolled up in one of them, jolting up when he accidentally drops one of his bags.  
“It’s me,” he quickly reassures the sorceress.  
“Sorry, I didn’t want to scare you.”  
“I’m just... just a bit jumpy at the moment... not seeing shit is...” She abruptly stops and gestures vaguely.  
“I don’t dare to imagine how it must feel...” Jaskier shudders.  
“Anyway, dinner is ready, you want me to help you go downstairs?”  
Yennefer hesitates before she nods slowly. 

Later that evening, when they’re back in the guest room, Yennefer is sitting on her bed, cross-legged, and staring at the ceiling. Her jaw is clenched shut, her hands digging into the bedsheets. Jaskier is watching her from his bed, a worried look on his face.  
“Could you please stop glaring at me, bard?” Yennefer hisses and Jaskier flinches.  
“What... How did you know?” he asks taken aback.  
“I can literally feel your eyes on me.”  
Yennefer turns her head, her empty eyes meeting his gaze and he shudders.  
“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to offend you, I’m just... worried,” he quickly says, raising his hands in defense. Yennefer sighs.  
“No need to. I’ll be fine as soon as I got my powers back.”  
Jaskier huffs and crosses his arms.  
“Now, listen, Yennefer, you might be a big, powerful and badass sorceress, but it is absolutely okay to have someone worry about you when you’re in a bad shape! That doesn’t make you any weaker, that’s bollocks you know? And hell, yeah, I have to admit I never really liked you because of... well, reasons I don’t want to mention, but damn, I was scared for you when I found you sitting in all that blood and burned grass! And I still am worried about you, you’re not being close to yourself right now and all I want is to help you, so would you please stop being such a goddamn buffoon?!”  
Yennefer’s eyes had widened with every word and for a short moment she seems shocked, but she quickly regains her composure again.  
“Come over here,” she says and points at the end of her bed but Jaskier shakes his head.  
“You know, Geralt said that to me once and then I got his first into my guts.”  
To his surprise, Yennefer snorts amused.  
“I’d have loved to see that. But no, I’m not going to hurt you, idiot.”  
“Yeah, of course, you’d like that,” he laughs and walks over to Yennefer’s bed, sitting down at the edge and faces the sorceress.  
“Jaskier, I... Thank you. For helping me. I’m glad that it was you who found me. I mean, you are the most annoying human being I’ve ever met but I do see why Geralt likes having you around,” she says and gives him a weak smile.  
“Yeah, just that he doesn’t,” Jaskier replies with a bitter voice and he feels his heart sink.  
“I didn’t see him in a year. Since he chased me away like a dog that shat on his boots. Never came to apologize.”  
He huffs and crawls further onto the bed to lean his back onto the wall.  
“Wait, why? What happened?” Yennefer asks, changing her position until she sits next to Jaskier.  
“On the mountain. After you left him. He was so angry and I’ve made the mistake trying to calm him. He said that all that horse shit going wrong in his life was my fault and then told me that he never wants to see me again. And well, here I am, on my own, trying to figure the mess I’m in now.”  
He lets his head fall onto the wall, the sadness about to overwhelm him once again.  
“Oh, I didn’t know... I’m sorry,” Yennefer says quietly.  
“No, it’s fine. I guess it would have happened sooner or later anyway. I know I‘m an annoying piece of shit most of the time.”  
“You are annoying, yes, but you aren’t a piece of shit, Jaskier. You have a good heart. And... to be honest... I only didn’t like you because I was jealous of what you had with Geralt. He never let me as close as you got to him, you know. That made me jealous.”  
Yennefer laughs, leaning her head onto the wall as well, closing her eyes.  
“Well, I think you got a lot closer to him than I did in the end?” Jaskier remarks.  
“I mean emotionally, Jaskier,” she snorts. 

They sit in silence for a while before Yennefer starts speaking again. Her voice is quiet, just a whisper.  
“I lost my friends in that battle. I tried to save them. I burned everything, everyone, I panicked and ran away. I left everyone behind because I was no help. And this goddamn bitch Fringilla found me. She took my sight and left me to die. I... I managed to open a portal and... then you found me. After a few days.”  
Jaskier is completely taken aback by Yennefer’s sudden explanation.  
“I’m... I...,” he stutters but he can’t find any words so he just pulls her close until her head rests on his shoulder. She doesn’t fight it and lets out a relieved sigh.  
“Thank you, Jaskier.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaah I'm so sorry that it took so long :(   
> I started a new job this week and the past few days I was so stressed and anxious that I won't be able to start working at all due to the current ... well, yeah you know. Anyway, it worked out, I won't be unemployed so... I might be back to writing faster again, can't promise anything tho, but I'll try my best!   
> I have to admit that chapter is a bit weird to me, I hope you like it anyway!

The morning sun pours through the small window, tiny specks of dust dancing in the flares. Jaskier shifts under his blanket and grunts displeased when the sun shines directly into his face. He sits up and rubs the sleep out of his eyes. His still sleepy gaze wanders to Yennefer. She’s leaning on the head of her bed, hands in her lap, eyes closed and a focused expression wrinkling her forehead. The night had been rough, she had been waking up a lot, sometimes crying or even screaming. Jaskier had tried his best to soothe her, sitting by her side until she fell asleep again. And yet she seemed to be less exhausted than the day before.   
“Good Morning,” he says yawning and lets his legs hang over the edge of the bed. Yennefer just hums in reply.   
“You feel better?” he asks fishing for his doublet on the chair next to his bed, as the room is still chilly from the cool night.   
“Mhm, maybe a bit.”   
Sighing she pulls back her blanket and gets up.   
“Let’s get breakfast. Zola prepared it already before she and Yurga left for the market,” she then adds.   
“You waited for me to wake up?! Yennefer, you could have...” Jaskier starts but she signs him to stop talking.   
“I woke you up often enough, least I could do was letting you sleep.”  
Her voice is soft, so soft he had only heard when she had talked to Geralt.   
“But...,” he tries to protest but gets interrupted again.   
“Jaskier, I appreciate your help, but please, don’t overstate it.”   
Jaskier huffs defeated.   
“I’ll try,” he promises and picks up his boots.   
“Ready to go downstairs?” 

“So, tell me, why the hell did you come to Sodden?” Yennefer wants to know, mouth full with bread. The bard hesitates for a moment, puts his own breakfast down, thinking about how much he could tell her.   
“Well, I... I want to find out who I am. I’m having a few, let’s say discrepancies in my past that I want to smooth down.”

“Didn’t you say you’re a viscount or something like that?” 

Although her eyes are still a blur of various grays mixing he can catch a glimpse of curiosity in them when she slightly tilts her head. 

“I am, well, was I guess, turned out I’m not a Pankratz by birth.” He shudders at the memories, trying to not let them sink in too deep into his mind again. He takes a deep breath before he continues.   
“My parents adopted me and some documents I’ve found lead me to the Amell Mountain range, and I hope I’ll find out more there... Figured out, crossing through Sodden would be the safest way.”

“Why is it so important to you? You have a loving family, why do you want to find those who abandoned you? Why get yourself into danger for this?” In her voice swings bitterness when it reminds her of her own childhood. Jaskier takes a moment before he replies, unsure if it would be a good idea to tell the sorceress about the new developments in his life. But then hope she could help him begins to spark. 

“I’m... ah, I don’t know, I didn’t tell anyone so far, and I’m a bit afraid that it will interfere with my image as a bard in a bad way, so, uhm, please promise you won’t tell anyone. I think you might actually... know something that could help me,” he says, suddenly feeling nervous. 

“I don’t know how I could possibly help you figuring out your past, but okay, I promise,” the sorceress replies, raising her hand in a vow and Jaskier isn’t sure if she’s being sarcastic or not. Jaskier clears his throat and fiddles with the seam of his doublet. 

“So, eh, after the dragon hunt, when Geralt...”   
He draws a sharp breath, then pressing his lips into a thin line. It still hurts to think about the events on the mountain although it’s been one year ago by now. He shakes the thought out of his head.   
“Be that as it may, I went back to Oxenfurt from there, bought Pegasus on that way, and oh, he’s such a wonderful companion, by the way, worked as a professor at the academy for a while but it wasn’t really... satisfying. I loved my students, so attentive and willing to learn all the time, but it was as if something was missing, you know that feeling? Decided I’ll go home, see my family and maybe do my chores as viscount. Sitting around in court, helping with law and order and so on. Well, things didn’t go as planned, my parents died while I was gone, Verena, my sister, gave me a letter from my dear mother and, yes, here I am now, dealing with the thoughts that I... I might be a damn Witcher.”

For a short moment, it’s completely silent. Yennefer glares into his direction, her eyes wide in surprise. Then she snorts.   
“A Witcher? Are you trying to fool me, bard?”   
“Wha- Why, no!” Jaskier jumps off the chair, tumbling it over and it lands on the floor with a crash, causing Yennefer to wince.   
“Why would I lie about such a... horrifying thing?! You can’t be serious!” he shrieks, hands on his hips and pouting, clearly offended.   
“Oh, I wish I could see your face now.”  
A mean grin tugs on the corners of her lips and Jaskier throws his arms into the air, pouting even more when he realizes that the sorceress offended him on purpose.   
“I apologize, that was mean, but please, go on. Why do you think you could be a Witcher? I never sensed magic or anything else around you, neither did Geralt, I assume.” Her tone is serious now, steady and calm. Jaskier picks up the chair he had thrown over and sits back down.   
“Already forgiven, I guess,” he grins sour and runs his fingers through his hair.   
“I am apparently in the possession of a Witcher medallion that my mother kept hidden from me and then, a few weeks ago, I couldn’t light a fire, because everything was soaked from that rainstorm that day, and I tried to use that sign I saw... him use all the time when he lit a fire, even on rainy days. It worked, more or less,” he explains, his fingers closing around the medallion dangling from his neck as if he wants to check if it’s still there.   
Yennefer sets her elbows on the table and rests her head on her hands, eyebrows raised.   
“More or less? What do you mean?”, she wants to know.   
“I... uhm, the fire pit might have exploded a bit.”  
“Oh gods, I wish I could see that right now,” Yennefer says before she starts laughing.   
“Hey, you had to learn how to control your magic as well! Don’t laugh!” Jaskier complains but then joins her laughter, feeling a bit relieved about her becoming more relaxed by now.   
“Natural talent, Jaskier. I always have been good,” she smirks at him and Jaskier has to admit it looks a little creepy with her blind stare. 

In that moment the door swings open and the elderly couple comes in. They’re both carrying different kinds of food, and fabric, Jaskier guesses it’s for sewing new clothes.   
“Ah, I see, both fed and hopefully sated?” Zola smiles and puts her basket down.   
“Yes, thank you so much for having us, we really appreciate your help!” Jaskier immediately replies with a wide charming smile but Zola waves it off.   
“You both are welcome to stay as long as you have to, to come back to full strength. You two aren’t the first ones we’re housing during the battle of Sodden Hill, and we are glad to help everyone in need. So please, make yourself a home until you feel well enough to continue your travels.”  
The soft expression on her face and an honest smile give her words an extra sincerity and Jaskier can’t bring himself to stop thanking the woman over and over again until Yennefer cuts off his words.   
“I think we all know now how grateful you are, bard. You can stop babbling our ears off,” she states, nevertheless sounding amused.   
“It’s okay, really, I don’t mind. You know, about a week ago or so I took a child in, oh, she looked awful, dirty, holes in her clothes, poor thing was out there for weeks escaping from the war. Told me she was searching for her destiny, some man. Yurga found him, could have been her dad, her hair was nearly as white as his, both weren't talking much, was a bit awkward.”  
Both Jaskier and Yennefer tense up, locking eyes with each other, in Yennefer’s case more like vaguely looking into Jaskiers direction though.   
“Did he have golden eyes?” Jaskier asks quietly, already knowing the answer. His face turns to stone when the woman confirms his assumption. Wordless he gets up and walks out of the front door. 

Jaskier takes a deep breath as soon as the door falls into its lock. What a very unhappy coincidence to end up in the same house Geralt had taken shelter in. He sighs and sits down on the bench build next to the entryway. Head leaned to the wooden wall he closes his eyes and tries to calm his thoughts spinning around all kinds of scenarios that could have happened if he would have arrived a week earlier. He sits in silence for a while, the only noise the singing of the birds sitting in the surrounding trees.   
The door opens with a squeak and Jaskier opens his eyes.   
“Jaskier?” Yennefer steps outside, stopping at the doorstep again, seemingly unsure where to go.   
“I’m here,” Jaskier says and the sorceress manages to sit down next to him without his help.   
“You okay?” she asks.   
“Mhm. Yes, I’m... fine. Yes. I’m just... you know every damn time I try to forget about him he just... he... something happens to remind me and everything is back in my damn mind and then I can’t stop thinking about how much I miss him, how much I miss... everything I had when I was with him. Gods, I hate it. It’s been one year and yet it still makes me feel miserable. I want to see him again but then when I think about it I don’t want to because I am scared of... of how he’ll react, of what he’d say to me.”

“You’re thinking too much,” is everything Yennefer replies bluntly. 

“I know! But I just can’t turn it off!”

“I could help with that. Just give me a brick.”

Jaskier gasps and gapes at her, totally flabbergasted. His mouth opening and closing like a fish stranded on the shore. 

“You’re doing that face again, aren’t you? Well, that’s one of the worst downsides of being blind. I can’t see those horrible grimaces of yours,” Yennefer smirks but the sad undertone is hard to miss. 

“Can’t you... fix it? With magic?” Jaskier wants to know, already forgotten about his own dilemma, thanks to the sorceress’ teasing. 

“I guess, but  
not on my own. Not right now,” Yennefer replies sounding stiff and distant now. Jaskier uncomfortably shifts on the bench before he dares to ask the question burning on his tongue.   
“Is there any way I could help you?” 

“Yes, you could shut up about it,” Yennefer snaps at him, her voice getting more irate with every word. Jaskier winces, raising his hands in defense.   
“Sorry, but you joke about... I just...”

The sorceress sighs.   
“I don’t want to talk about it, Jaskier. I have to deal with this on my own.”

Jaskier just shrugs and gets up.   
“As you wish,” he replies and walks back into the farmhouse, closing the door behind him.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh gods, I'm so sorry. This chapter took me AGES to finish.  
> I've started a new job back at the beginning of April, there's a lot of learning and not much time for other things and thanks to that damn virus my life is a mess right now, like I guess for a lot of you too.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy this chapter.

Jaskier couldn’t understand why Yennefer tries so hard to get through her traumatic experiences on her own. He knows that the Sorceress is too proud to admit that she needs help since she started to feel better. Sighing he goes searching for Zola, hoping that she might have something he could help with. That feeling in his chest, wanting to help, but not being allowed to made him feel restless. He finds the woman in the kitchen, already preparing meat for dinner as it would need a few hours to cook. Not needing a helping hand she tells him that Yurga would be happy about help on the fields. Gladly Jaskier accepts the offer and leaves the house through the back door, directly leading to a farm road framed by the forest to said fields. 

The fields aren’t far anymore when Jaskier hears loud fearful and pained screams along with the hoarse screeches of something else. At first, he freezes in place, unsure of if he should risk getting closer or call for help first but the screams get more desperate and he starts sprinting towards the noises. He remembers how Geralt always told him to stay back and a grim smile sneaks onto his lips.  
Leaving the last trees behind quickly he spots a small group of farmers, including Yurga, in the middle of a freshly plowed field fighting off a bunch of blood-red creatures he’s surely never seen before with their pitchforks. A few beasts lay dead already, their four long, spider-like legs sticking up into the air, curling like the legs of a dead fly. A pitchfork lies broken next to one of the corpses, the farmer it seemingly belongs to is bleeding heavily and the others surrounded him, trying to protect him from the thorned monsters. Jaskier lets out a disgusted noise when he sees the needle-like fangs snapping at one of the men’s arms. He stops a few meters away from them, nearly falling over a hard clump of dirt, ignoring their warning shouts to run away and get help. It would take too long he is afraid, and if he manages to at least distract those ugly things long enough the farmers could kill them. He takes a deep breath and concentrates on one of the beasts that is the furthest from the men as he doesn’t want to hurt them with the sign, he raises his arm, trying to cast Igni. But nothing happens. At that moment he realizes how fast his heart is beating behind his ribs and the fear laying heavy in his stomach, distracting his subconscious mind.  
Suddenly one of the creatures notices him, it lets go of the men and turns towards him. Jaskier yelps and his head starts spinning with panic. Unlike the others he has nothing on him to defend himself and seeing how fast the creature runs up to him he knows he can’t escape. He curses and tries to cast Igni again and finally, he feels the magic flooding hot through his veins. He doesn’t care that the fire explodes uncontrolled at contact with the beast, knocking it right off its feet, burning it. The beast shrieks until it stops twitching, legs coiling when it dies. He sees the irritated expression on the farmers' faces quickly changing to fearful grimaces and a much louder screech lets him spin around he sees himself face to face with a much larger similar creature, its claw-like jaws spread wide. Jaskier’s heart leaps painfully and he jumps back, glad that the shock didn’t freeze him in place when he sees a yellowish liquid dripping from the teeth. Traveling with a Witcher had taught him that discolored saliva is most probably venomous and he quickly tries to get out of reach but he stumbles over the clump of dirt, falling backward with a startled scream. He closes his eyes and yanks his arms up to protect his face when the beast leaps towards him. He holds his breath, waiting. But the expected blow never comes. Irritated he blinks, just to see the horned beast going limp, slowly toppling over to its side, apparently dead. Jaskier snaps his head around, only to find the other creatures dead as well.  
And then he sees her.  
A tall woman in a long, tight black dress with a high collar reaching up to her hair that is tied up to a strict knot. On her chest rests a big golden pendant. She’s turning around, her eyes obviously searching for something.  
The farmers are already walking up to her, thanking her for saving them, but she only gives them a stiff nod and is waving them off before she walks over to Jaskier, who is still sitting in the dirt, meeting her glare with wide eyes.  
Her face has something arrogant to it, but Jaskier doesn’t let that fool him. Her eyes are sunken in, filled with exhaustion and sadness, dark rings clearly visible below them. Jaskier scrambles back onto his legs, wiping the dirt off his sleeves and butt.  
“I... uh... Thank you for saving me... us, I guess,” he says, giving her a weak smile.  
“You’re the one who used magic, I assume,” she says bluntly. Her voice sounds bitter and hurt and Jaskier almost feels guilty for confirming her statement. She sighs disappointed, muttering something to herself before she takes a few steps back and opens a portal with a flick of her hand.  
“Wait! Did you just say Yennefer?” Jaskier calls her back.  
The woman turns around and hope flickers over her face.  
“Do you know her? Yennefer of Vengerberg?” she asks and the portal disappears when she comes closer again.  
“I... I do, I’m... with her,” he replies a bit skeptical and then the woman in front of him lets out a relieved cry.  
“Please, please tell me where I can find her!” Her voice is now shaking, her movements frantic when she grabs his shoulders.  
“O-Okay, uhm, follow me then,” Jaskier replies taken aback by the sudden outbreak. 

They walk towards the farmhouse quietly for half of the way, until Jaskier breaks the silence.  
“May I ask who you are?” he wants to know, side eying the woman walking next to him. He’s unsure if it was a good idea to trust her and show her to Yennefer.  
“Tissaia. Tissaia de Vries. I’m Yennefer’s tutor. I’m sorry for not introducing myself properly before. Everything has been so blurred since the battle of Sodden Hill, I’ve not been myself since then. I’ve been trying to find Yennefer after it ended. Is she doing okay?”  
“She’s... I don’t know, I think she is traumatized but she’s... okay, mostly. And I’m Jaskier, by the way,” he replies, thinking that it most probably is okay to trust the sorceress. Tissaia hums and falls silent again for the rest of their way back to the village. 

Jaskier stops at the door, turning to Tissaia.  
“I maybe should tell you that Yennefer was blinded,” he says carefully, his hand resting on the handle. Tissaia presses her lips into a thin line and nods. Not a woman of many words then, she’d get along with Geralt perfectly, he thinks and opens the door to the now empty kitchen, the meat Zola was preparing earlier cooking in the hearth over the fire, stepping inside before he stops again.  
“I don’t know if Zola, the woman who lives here, is okay with me bringing strangers into her house... so, uhm, would it be okay for you to wait outside while I’ll look for Yennefer? There’s a bench at the front.”  
Tissaia just nods again, her lips still sealed, giving her a serious and distant look. She walks away, disappearing around the corner.  
Jaskier quickly crosses the kitchen towards the hall and finds Yennefer sitting on one of the benches, her eyes closed, seemingly focused on her thoughts, and Jaskier makes sure to be noisy while entering the room, not wanting to scare her unnecessarily. She raises her head.  
“Jaskier?”  
“Yeah, it’s me. I’ve-“ Jaskier starts, but Yennefer interrupts him.  
“I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t want to be so ... harsh,” she blurts out.  
“It’s fine, I guess it’s hard to talk about it when it’s still fresh, although it might hurt my feelings a bit. But nevertheless, I’ve brought someone who surely can help you.”  
“Jaskier, I’ve told you I have to go through this on my own. There’s no one around here who could help me.”  
“It’s Tissaia, Yennefer. She’s waiting outside.”  
Yennefer’s eyes widen in surprise and disbelief, and she’s taking a while to process what Jaskier just told her.  
“Come on, I’ll help you to the door,” he says, reaching for her arm. The sorceress jumps up, grasping his hand, and Jaskier stumbles after her when she runs into the direction of the door, missing a pillar by a hair’s breadth. Jaskier manages to get in front of her before she slams into the door, and opens it, both more or less falling outside when it swings open.  
“Yennefer!” A strangled shout comes from the woman waiting and then both women fall into each other’s arms. And to Jaskier’s surprise, Yennefer starts sobbing. He decides it’s probably appropriate to go back inside, giving the sorceresses some time alone. 

As the farmers are taking care of their wounds Jaskier doesn’t have anything to do while the women talk to each other he decides to bear Pegasus some company. The gelding greets him with a soft neigh and Jaskier pets his nose.  
“I’ve got you something, dear,” he smiles and pulls a carrot he snagged from the kitchen out of his pocket. He laughs when Pegasus’ ears snap forward and he happily starts munching on the carrot on Jaskier’s flat hand.  
“How about I’ll tend to your fur a bit, hm?” he suggests, untangling some knots in the horse’s mane. He’s seen a few brushes and combs when he entered the stable and he goes to pick them up.  
Pegasus bobs his head cheerfully as soon as Jaskier starts brushing his flanks, carefully removing small junks of dirt and dust that has collected in his fur over the past weeks.  
“I really should buy some supplies to keep your fur shiny and clean, don’t you think?” Jaskier mutters, perplexed by that he didn’t get the idea earlier.  
He is slowly working through the fur when realization dawns on him. The events from about two hours earlier crash back into his mind and overwhelmed he lets his hand sink, nearly dropping the comb he’s holding.  
“Wow,”  
he whispers, slumping down into the straw and leans to the wall of the box. He could have died on that field. He draws in a shaking breath, trying to suppress the rising feeling of panic that clenches his throat. It was naive to think he could be helping without knowing what he had to deal with. And what would have happened if his magic, that he still couldn’t control, had injured one of the farmers? His actions were incredibly careless and stupid. Jaskier has endangered everyone and if the sorceress wouldn’t have saved them, they might all have died. He swallows hard, trying to get rid of the lump of fear forming in his throat. The wish of finding out who he really is, the wish to learn more about himself and the potential slumbering inside of him grows. He hates the feeling of being useless and helpless. But before he can lose himself in his thoughts completely Pegasus starts nibbling at his hair, blowing warm air onto his head with every huff.  
“Huh? Oh, you want me to continue!”  
Jaskier pulls himself up onto his feet again, carefully petting the horse’s nose before going back to work. 

He’s nearly finished brushing the dust out of Pegasus’ fur when he hears footsteps approaching him. He raises his head and sees Yennefer and Tissaia entering the stable. Both look exhausted but a lot happier and relaxed than before. Jaskier smiles at them and to his surprise, Tissaia returns it. He puts the brush down and walks out of the box, dusting off his clothes.  
“Everything settled?” he asks, meeting the women halfway.  
Yennefer nods but Tissaia is the one replying.  
“You could say so, yes. Yennefer told me a few things about you you could need help with. So I’m here to offer you my help, as a thank you for taking care of Yennefer,” she says, still smiling.  
“I... uh,” Jaskier begins, but Yennefer is interrupting him.  
“We might discuss this inside if you don’t want to ruin your image as a bard,” she says and winks. 

A few minutes later, Zola had agreed to let Tissaia in as well, they sit on their beds in the guest room, Jaskier on his, the sorceresses on Yennefers. While the women are sitting upright on the edge, Jaskier has crawled onto the mattress and is leaning on the wall with his legs crossed.  
“So, Jaskier, what’s on your mind?” Tissaia asks, the tenseness in her voice gone, her hands calmly resting on her lap. Jaskier scratches his head.  
“Aaah, at first, what the fuck were those ugly things?” he wants to know. He now remembers seeing them before when he was with Geralt, but that day the Witcher was in a rather bad mood and Jaskier never got to know their name. The sorceress raises an eyebrow at the choice of his words.  
“Kikimore workers. The one about to attack you was a warrior to protect them,” the sorceress explains. “But thanks to them I was able to locate you. After I couldn’t find Yennefer I had an eye on spells cast in the area around Sodden Hill to find her.”  
“Mhm, at least I wasn’t completely useless then,” Jaskier mumbles to himself before he speaks up again.  
“But don’t they live in swamps? Why were they out on those fields?”, he recalls and the sorceress confirms.  
“You’re right, they find their homes in the swamps, they aren’t too far away from here, so I assume they were out looking for food. Maybe some misguided catapult shots destroyed their usual feeding grounds,” Tissaia elaborates. Jaskier nods understanding.  
“Yeah, okay, that makes sense. As that matter is addressed, my second question would be: Did you ever hear of a Witcher School that uses the symbol of a falcon?”  
For a moment silence fills the small room. Tissaia is staring at him, her face unreadable. Nervously Jaskier starts fumbling with the seam of his doublet. It feels like an eternity before Tissaia replies.  
“Well, why do you ask specifically about the School of Falcon?” Tissaia answers with another question, suddenly a skeptical gleam in her eyes.  
Jaskier sighs.  
“I want to know what it has to do with my past,” he says, locking eyes with the sorceress.  
“You already know that I am able to use Witcher signs, well, one of them, and I didn’t age for years. And then there’s that medallion.”  
He pulls the medallion out from under his shirt, the light coming from the tiny window reflecting the relief of the falcon with a silvery glint. Tissaia shifts, folding her hands and gives Jaskier a firm glare.  
“Well then. I don’t know much about that School tough. Barely anything. I can tell you that it is located somewhere around Mount Gorgon. But what I can’t tell you is if they ever trained Witchers there.”  
Disappointment sweeps through Jaskiers mind, his shoulders slouching and a frown shows on his face.  
“I’m really sorry that I can’t tell you more,” Tissaia adds honestly.  
“No, no, it’s okay, really. I just had hoped to get more hints on where to continue my search. But I guess I have to keep going and see for myself. Maybe I’ll be more lucky as soon as I get closer.”  
He sighs again, brushing the hair away from his eyes.  
“Anyway, there is one more thing I want to ask.”  
“Go ahead,” Tissaia encourages him.  
“Is there any way I can control the magic better? I can’t keep walking around fearing to burn down everything around me.” He tilts his head and smiles embarrassed.  
“Focus and commitment. You already figured on your own how to use your magic, there is nothing more I could teach you about that. I could enchant one of your rings for example, with a spell that controls the flow but that wouldn’t help you and your medallion would go crazy. So keep trying until you’ll get a feeling for it. Also, meditation might help you calm your mind more quickly in situations you need to react fast,” the sorceress explains patiently and Jaskier can see the teacher coming through. They keep talking about magic for a while, Yennefer joining them until Zola knocks and invites them downstairs for dinner.  
After that, the sorceresses decide to leave for Aretuza to find a way to fix Yennefer’s sight. Before they leave Jaskier and Yennefer share a long hug and Jaskier thinks that Yennefer isn’t as bad as he had thought when he waves them off at the portal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm bad at describing things, so if you want to know how kikimore workers and warriors look like, I suggest looking at the Witcher Wiki.  
> I've also wanted to add more notes but I forgot what I wanted to write whoops.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! 
> 
> I'm finally back with a new chapter. I'm so sorry it took me so long to finish it but there's so much on my mind that I just couldn't find the right words to continue. I've also didn't reach my goal of 2500 words but I didn't want to let you wait longer. Please excuse if it sounds a bit wobbly at some parts, I really did my best to not write senseless gibberish. 
> 
> I'll try to be back with a new chapter soon, I have notes and pre-written paragraphs for several more chapters already, so hopefully it won't take me so long again. 
> 
> Thank you so much for the reviews I received during my absence, I really appreciate them all!  
> I'll answer them shortly, please be patient for a bit longer :) 
> 
> PS, I have a oneshot coming that I'll finish soon as well, maybe you'll have a look at it as soon as it is uploaded (It's smut ;D)

Slowly crawling over the treetops of the forest the rising sun is casting a rosy hue across the morning sky, dotted with fluffy white clouds, lazily drifting in the gentle breeze. Birds are playing and singing in the nearby trees, accompanied by the soft rustling of the leaves and the clopping of Pegasus’ hooves on the dirty road.   
Jaskier has left Kagen with the first rays of sunlight, his saddlebags filled with fresh bread, dry meat, apples, and a lot of delicious foods that Zola and Yurga insisted he should take with him, as thanks for saving Yurga and the other farmers. And no matter how often he had mentioned that Tissaia did most of the work, they wouldn’t let him leave with less. They wished him farewell and sent him off with a warning to be careful traveling through the Dank Wilderness.   
His thoughts are spiraling around the monsters, the kikimore workers and the warrior, he encountered the day before and he can’t deny that he is scared to run into those beasts again. Thinking about their spidery legs makes his skin crawl. A shudder runs over his body as he grabs his medallion, hoping it won’t start vibrating on his chest. He frowns. Did the medallion vibrate when he got close to the kikimore on the fields? He sighs and tries to ignore the nauseous feeling in his stomach when he can’t remember the necklace reacting.   
Pegasus’ nicker pulls Jaskier out of his thoughts and he realizes he accidentally started to pull the reins.   
“Oh! I’m sorry Pegasus, dear!” he blurts out and ruffles the gelding's mane while letting the leather straps loosen. From that moment on Jaskier tries to stay more focused but his mind keeps drifting to the monsters lurking in the swampy meadows and bushes bordering the dusty road.   
Fear is constantly nagging on his mind and around noon he can’t take it any longer. He just wants to get out of this solitude.   
He spurs Pegasus into a gallop, leaving a trail of blown up dust behind. While small trees and muddy ponds fly by Jaskier wonders why he suddenly is so anxious. He had traveled the country before he even had met Geralt, much younger and utterly defenseless. And yet he remembers not one occasion he was so frightened as he was now. To be fair, back then he didn’t know about all the monstrosities crawling around in every part of the continent. Of course, he had heard about some of them during his time in the academy, or in the many books he had read as bedtime stories. But nothing had prepared him for the danger of not just the beasts, but also humans he had encountered during the time he traveled with Geralt. He is painfully aware that he’s not able to defend himself against any of the creatures on his own, not as untrained as he is right now.   
When Pegasus falls back into a light canter, huffing and covered in sweat, he realizes he can’t keep running all day and needs to take breaks. He spots a group of high trees not too far away from the road. He stirs the horse towards them, avoiding the watery holes on the ground.   
Pegasus comes to a stop as soon as they reach the trees and Jaskier slides down from his back, his glare nervously observing the area around him. He relaxes a bit when he only spots a few herons strutting through the muddy ponds nearby. Just to be sure he touches the medallion, letting his hand rest on it for a moment but it hangs calmly on its chain.   
Relieved he pulls out an apple, one of the meat pies Zola gave him, and his notebook from the saddlebags and detaches his lute. He offers the apple to Pegasus, who happily takes it, before he searches for a dry spot to sit down. To his luck, he finds a flat bolder big enough to sit on hidden in the tall grass growing below one of the trees.   
Before he lets himself fall onto the bolder he carefully puts his instrument down next to it. He then quickly finishes his meal, his eyes always dashing over his surroundings while his mind is already working on the lyrics for a new song.   
And soon enough soft melodies are filling the silence, Jaskier’s quiet voice blending in when he starts singing about a powerful sorceress saving a group of farmers and her blind friend from a pack of monsters. 

The second half of the day is as uneventful as the first, the fear of running into a creature fading with each note Jaskier plays, with each line he sings, the music soothing his mind while Pegasus trots forward, swaying with each step he takes.   
When the sun starts painting the sky in a velvet red he makes camp, far from the road and hidden away from sights behind a small formation of rocks. The orange flickering of the fire dancing on his face and the medallion clutched in his hand he falls asleep. 

The noise of Pegasus’ stomping hooves lets Jaskier jolt out of sleep, eyes wide open in alert but he quickly calms down when he realizes that the horse is just trying to get rid of the mosquitos swarming through the now humid air of the swamp.   
A bright line over the horizon announces the beginning of a new day and Jaskier slowly crawls out from under his blanket, shivering in the cold morning breeze.   
“Let’s break camp, dear, and get away from those mosquitos, huh?” he mutters and stretches his limbs, still a bit stiff from sleep, ignoring the slightly itchy bites on his skin. After a quick breakfast, he gathers his belongings and saddles up the gelding. 

Soon Jaskier realizes that leaving the camp behind didn’t get them rid of the mosquitos trying to bite every piece of skin that isn’t hidden from clothing.   
Jaskier can tell that Pegasus is as annoyed as himself about the little pests wanting their blood. The horse is shaking its head and whipping his tail rapidly the whole time, muscles twitching every time a mosquito finds a vein. Just when he smashes one of the insects on his arm he remembers that Geralt always had a paste that kept those bloodsuckers away and he wishes he’d asked him how to prepare it. Cursing he urges Pegasus into a light canter, hoping the mosquitos won’t be able to keep up with them.   
Finally, when the sun is about to reach its highest point, the buzzing around them starts to fade when the mosquitos flee from the midday heat. 

After a short break for a meal they’re back on the road. Soft wind swept away all clouds and the sky is glimmering bright blue. Although it’s not quite summer yet, the sun is burning down unforgivingly already.   
Jaskier is peeling himself out of his doublet when he spots a grey mass shimmering on the horizon. Gaping in awe he recognizes the outlines he’s seen on a few pictures already during his researches. Mount Gorgon. The mountain must be huge, as he knows he won’t reach its slopes for at least another week.   
He is so mesmerized by the view that he doesn’t notice that there is a cart slowly coming closer. Only when Pegasus stops dead in his tracks he manages to tear his gaze away from the massive range towards the cart, that is now just a few steps away.   
His heart jumps startled when his eyes meet those of a middle-aged man sitting on the cart. To his luck, it is just a traveling merchant. Relieved he climbs from the saddle, scolding himself for not paying attention. That could have gone wrong.  
“Good day, sir, might I have a look at your wares?” he asks with a bright smile plastered to his face when he gets an idea.   
The man returns the smile as he nods.   
“Of course! Anything particular you’re looking for?”  
He jumps from the seat and rolls back the tarpaulin to reveal the things he carries.   
“Oh, yes, I actually do have something in mind. Do you sell anything against those darn mosquitos?”   
Jaskier gives the merchant a pleading look. A rough laugh erupts from the man before he replies.   
“Don’t you worry, I have an ointment made out of fresh mint and lemongrass. It does not only keep those pests away but also cools the bites and eases the itch!”   
The man digs through some vials before he pulls out one filled with a light green substance.   
“I’ll give it to you for five coins, what do you say?”   
“I take it!” Jaskier replies without having to think about it, already searching his pockets for his purse. The merchant laughs again, trading the vial with Jaskiers coins.   
“I will share a little advice with you as well. Keep your eyes open for wild mint. Gather a few branches and rub them into your horse's fur. It’ll keep the damned bloodsuckers away from it. You can also hang a few branches to the saddle for a longer effect,” the man tells him and points to the horse pulling the cart. Jaskier notices that there are a few branches of mint tied to the harness.   
“Thank you so much! I have one last question though,” Jaskier says, bowing slightly while speaking his thanks. The man waves him off and looks at him expectantly.   
“Are you coming from Riedbrune and could you tell me how long it’ll take me to get there?”   
The merchant nods.   
“I am. It should take you about four to five more days, maybe three only if your horse doesn’t tire quickly. But there’s a small unnamed village on the route that’s most probably not on any map. You could reach it in less than two days.”  
Winking at him the man climbs back onto his cart and soon everyone is on their way again. 

Dusk is setting down, darkening the sky fast. With still no clouds in sight, there’s just a soft orange glow on the horizon, the first stars lighting up on the dark blue, melting into the last flares of the sun. As soon as daylight started fading he could see the clouds of mosquitos raise from the meadows. To Jaskier’s delight, the merchant's ointment does its job, as well as the wild mint he had collected at the side of the road.   
When he sets up camp that night he throws a few branches into the fire, a minty smell lulling him to sleep. 

It’s around noon when Jaskier feels a tremor going through the medallion. His breath catches in his chest when he grabs the necklace. But it doesn’t move, it’s laying cold and calm in his hand. Eyes darting over the swamp he spurs Pegasus to go faster. His ears are nervously turning, he too sensed something close. The same moment Jaskier spots a movement in the high grass the medallion starts jerking in his hand.  
He lets out a startled yelp and his eyes widen in terror when a group of half-dozen beasts covered in muddy red plates burst out of the meadow, leaping for them.   
“RUN!”  
His own scream rings in his ears and the horse rears forwards already before Jaskiers heels ram into his flanks.   
The abrupt movement throws Jaskier out of balance and he loses his grip but he manages to hold onto Pegasus’ mane in time, hanging side-on the horse's torso, clinging on for his dear life.   
The few minutes he needs to climb back into the saddle seem like an eternity but eventually, he finally can stick his boots back into the stirrups.   
It doesn’t take long before the shock of the sudden encounter fades, letting Jaskier think again. He recognized the creatures as Endrega, he saw Geralt fight them quite often when they traveled through swampy or wooded areas. Jaskier sighs relieved when he remembers that Geralt has told him that they are easy to outrun on a horse, not have much stamina for long chases.   
He lets Pegasus run for a few more minutes before he pats his strong neck and pulling the reins to slow him down. A look back confirms his memories; the Endrega are nowhere to be seen.   
The horse falls back into a light trot, ears still nervously flicking to all sides, trying to catch any suspicious noises.   
“They’re gone, dear, they won’t come back. You did so well, Pegasus. Thank you for getting us out there!” Jaskier soothes his gelding, stroking through his mane. Although the quick escape exhausted both of them they didn’t stop for a rest for two more hours, getting as much distance in between them and the Endrega as possible.


End file.
